


10AM Gare Du Nord

by stotch_writes_shit



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Car Accidents, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Other, Recovery, Slow Burn, nothing hits harder then a jean sasha connie and marco friendgroup, this will have a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stotch_writes_shit/pseuds/stotch_writes_shit
Summary: Jean Kirschtein is a college freshman who struggles to forgive himself after being at fault for a car accident that injured his friends and almost killed another."Everybody has those moments where the world seems to stop around you. One hand on the wheel, the other on a crushed pack of mostly broken cigarettes. The lights frayed off the dirty windshield like they did time and time again but this time it was different. He turned to him, smiled, and back to the road. And that was it."
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart (Mentioned), Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Combustible, Confused, and Free

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea heavy on my mind for quite a while. Not sure how many chapters its going to be but I hope you enjoy!

Everybody has those moments where the world seems to stop around you. One hand on the wheel, the other on a crushed pack of mostly broken cigarettes. The lights frayed off the dirty windshield like they did time and time again but this time it was different. He turned to him, smiled, and back to the road. And that was it.

Jean inhaled sharply as he woke up from the visual of headlights just inches from his face. His hand briefly clutched his chest to self soothe, peeling the wet fabric off his chest with white knuckles. He was used to the same nightmare time and time again but it surprised him every time. He could no longer picture the person in the passenger seat, their seatbelt buckled and strap maneuvered and tucked behind their back. His stomach lurched and he stood up to combat anxiously vomiting all over himself. Eugh, he thought, just eat breakfast and you’ll feel better soon. 

His hair strung together with his sweat and dangled in a greasy mess on his forehead he didn’t dare try to run his hands through. He turned out of bed, pressing his feet to the cold and creaking wood beneath him. Jean’s eyes scanned the worn out texture, tracing it with his toe before hoisting himself up. Every bone in his body was telling him to just get back into bed and try again tomorrow… but he said that yesterday. He really should be more appreciative of his mother putting him through school on her own dime, knowing she worked hard day in and out to give him a life he would be proud of. What exactly was there to be proud of?

He sighed and brought his hands up to attempt to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Bursts of color blinded him but were blinked out until they focused on the outfit his mother had picked out for him for his first day. Ugh, that was sweet. His stomach turned at the thought of disappointing her after doing so time and time again. 

He shuffled to the bathroom to quickly wash his hair in the sink. Self care wasn’t in his vocabulary considering he did not much care for himself at all. As angsty as it sounded in his head it wasn’t far from the truth. He grabbed his deodorant, opening it up to the crumbled remains of what he had left. His face scrunched, digging his fingers into the little holes and making due with what little he could get out. Just in case, he sprayed himself with one of his mom's perfumes in hopes it would mask whatever he had been accumulating for the past couple days. He felt disgusting, seeing no point and having no drive to actively make a change.

“Jean, dear.” His mother knocked on the bathroom door, not bothering to wait for a response before cracking it open. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

“Mmm...morning.” He said, faking a little smile for her. “Sorry, bad dream. Needed a minute.”

His mother opened the door a bit more, resting her hip against the counter. “That’s alright. I brought up your pills.” She opened the palm of her hand. Jean furrowed his eyebrows before reluctantly swallowing them dry. “You know, if you took them more often it might give them a chance to work.” She cooed. She lifted her hand and gently scrubbed a bit of dry drool off his chin. “You are a mess...Do you want me to do your hair nice for your first day?”

If there was one person Jean loved more than anyone it was his mother. Maybe it was off putting being babied the way he was, but he rather liked the way she treated him. She should be mad at him more. She should be furious with him. He tried to combat his emotions with a brief laugh.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Jean’s mother gently pat him, wobbling past him and sitting herself down on the lid to the toilet. He followed suit, sitting down on the floor with his back facing her as he used to when he was little. He remembered the familiar hum of a song she used to sing as she cut and styled his hair as a young boy… always careful to do her best. The thought comforted him.

She shuffled around gracefully behind him as attempted to relax himself against her touch.

“Are you nervous?” She asked running her fingers through his wet blonde hair, which more so resembled a mop lately. “You know, being nervous can be a good thing… you’re about to make a ton of new friends...learn a ton of new things!” His mother cooed in a singsong voice as she clicked the hair dryer on and started to shake her hands through his bangs as they dried. 

He couldn’t help but scoff a bit at the idea of making new friends. He was great at making them… he just wasn't great at keeping them. The only two people who had ever stuck by his side were Sasha and Connie… and even then things changed after the-

“Jean.” His mother said, sliding her finger in the collar of his shirt and blowing the warm air down his back. “Are you listening?”

“AH! Shit, yeah… yeah sorry.” He said, turning to her with a little smile. “I’m trying… okay?”

Her expression softened. “I know you are, honey.” She bent down and gently kissed the crown of his head, her own long blonde hair tickling the back of his neck. “I just need you to go and come home… no trouble, no fights with professors… if someone teases you, you just need to let it go… just like your therapist says.” She begged him as she set down the hair dryer.

“I know. It’s going to be different this time.” He felt as if he had knee-jerk lied to her and that was unsettling. Disappointing her any further wasn't an option, but it seemed to be by default.

She finished his hair in silence, commenting on how handsome he was every here and there. He didn’t like how the pomade felt coating his hair but when he rose to look in the mirror he felt the smallest amount of confidence bubble in his chest. 

“I can’t believe my handsome son is a freshman in college, I sure am getting old.” She popped up over his left shoulder, wrapping both of her arms around him. “You’ll be booking my room in the nursing home soon.”

“Shut up…” He laughed, leaning back into her. “I’m going to be late to my lecture… no time to start reflecting on your life...”

“Okay okay… I’m sorry. I just needed a minute.” She jokingly brushed her finger under her eye and sniffed. “Do you want me to drive you?”

“Yeah.” His response came the second after she spoke, seemingly to her displeasure.

“You have to get back behind the wheel soon, honey.”

“Not...today.”

* * *

The drive to the campus was completely silent. His medication had kicked in shortly after entering the vehicle but still caused the slightest of anxiety to manifest in his subconscious. This though, was relatively manageable. He had his head leaned against the cold glass of the window, watching the reflection of the trees on the windows and then focusing on those same trees through the glass. He was trying to manifest a day he could come home and tell his mom about but had little hope.

“Here we go, you’ll probably have to walk the rest of the way but this is the closest I can get you.” His mom said softly, reaching over to pat his thigh. “Are you okay?”

He resented that question, grabbing at his bag. “Yeah… you’ll pick me up if I need you to?” 

She nodded. That was enough to, at the very least, get him out of the car.

He stood on the curb and waved her off, taking note of the hole in his right shoe that was currently sucking an entire puddle up into his sock. Great start.

Jean turned and took a good look at the people passing between the buildings. Some of the girls were beautiful, he thought to himself as he took his first steps. He made a conscious effort to steer clear of anyone who would remotely talk to him regardless of that being the opposite of what he had been working on with his therapist for the past couple months.

He took in the scenery as if this was some kind of cheap Canadian made college film, turning his head to watch the reflection of himself in the glass panes that hugged the side of what seemed to be an art studio. The paintings inside AND out were unlike anything he had seen. The students working diligently had paint all over their hands and arms...almost making them art pieces themselves. Jean had wished that after everything he would have kept painting. Whether out of genuine love for the hobby or the vent about the things he had cooped up and filed away in his brain. He turned his head in embarrassment when a student looked out and continued on his way. 

“Jean? No shit!” He heard a familiar voice call his name. He cringed hard, his shoulder hiking up to his ears before peeking over his shoulder. Speak of the devil, he thought. 

“Connie, Sasha. Hey.” He turned to them as they ran up to him. Connie never in his life had obtained a sense of boundaries, throwing his arms around Jean and sharply patting his back. 

“Holy shit it’s been too long!” Connie pulled back, Sasha quickly replacing him with a hug so tight Jean huffed against her. “We didn’t expect to see you here!”

Sasha pulled back and promptly punched Jean in the chest as a friendly gesture. It wasn’t hard but Jean had lost a substantial amount of weight so it hit a bit more than it used to.

“Didn’t expect to see me here? It’s community college. It’s practically 13th grade.” Jean mumbled as he rubbed small circles where Sasha nabbed him.

“Psh… I know, but you weren't at orientation or nothin’ so I figured you had decided on another school or something.” Connie crossed his arms. “You don’t seem excited that we are excited to see you-”

“What Connie is trying to say-” Sashed turned up her nose, jabbing Connie in the side with her elbow. “Is that it’s really nice to see you again. You were...dearly missed.”

Jean couldn’t help but notice the scar on her left cheek, dipping up into the bottom of the round of her eye socket. She healed well, all things considering… The thoughts it brought on made him feel two inches tall.

“It’s nice to see you guys too. Nice to know you haven't changed, asshole.” Jean shot back at Connie in his typical snarky tone. It seemed that calmed the three of them from some unspoken awkwardness… or maybe that was Jean falsely reading the room.

“Where’s your lecture hall, I can walk you. Connie don’t you have somewhere to be? Presumably somewhere that is  _ not  _ here?” Sasha sneered, looping her arm around Jean’s with the same old confidence she always had. “Like, now, perhaps?”

Connie narrowed his eyes and flitted them between the both of them. “You’re lucky the comedic use of bigger words softened the blow or else I’d be pretty mad. I’ll catch you love birds later.” He said, waving them off with a wink. 

Jean seemed unphased until he turned to see Sasha’s light blush, immediately mimicking the behavior. Jean had always thought of Sasha fondly. Not only was she funny but she was incredibly beautiful and self aware. It wasn’t… a crush. Or maybe it was...but they would be a pretty shitty couple and that feeling was at least mutual.

“...How have you been? No one has heard from you since the accident.” She squeezed his arm as she spoke. “I gave up hopes that you’d call after Marco…”

“I’m sorry.” He quickly said, wanting to spare himself the details. “I’ve just been really busy. That’s all.” He lied.

Sasha was always good at picking up hints, nodding softly as he spoke. “That’s okay… well, since you’re back… there's no reason we can’t pick up where we left off.” She smiled, sliding her hands down his arm and resting them against his hands. “You still have my number… and I’m usually with Connie so you can reach the both of us pretty easily. Let’s meetup for coffee sometime… on you of course.”

Jean felt… so weird. He was smiling and functioning but on the inside he was so confused. He politely agreed and then parted ways once she had guided him to the most obscure and hard to find lecture hall that must have ever existed. Even after she walked away his thoughts still raged on. Connie and Sasha didn’t abandon him after everything happened. Jean was trying to remember that he was the one who abandoned THEM. He was trying to remember WHY he put up that wall between them. They were probably confused too.

* * *

Jean had struggled to maintain his stamina throughout the day, tapping his pencil against the desk as the professor droned on and on. He didn’t feel it particularly interesting since they were still in the introductory period but regardless his inability to function was beyond frustrating. He packed up his things quickly once they were dismissed and held back to be one of the last people out of the lecture hall. The hallways were adorned with cheesy posters and mantras about being studious and invested, along with fliers for tutors just in case you can't ‘Apply yourself!’ like said posters pleaded in comic sans. The environment was overwhelming...and new…. And he couldn't wait to get the fuck home and back into bed. He had one more lecture for the day and then it was over.

Jean stopped at a bench to collect himself, sitting down with a huff as the world droned on behind him. The day had begun in a dark stormy haze but had lightened to sunny and passive 40 degrees. He looked up and closed his eyes, reveling as the sun hit him and warmed his pale skin. The leaves on the trees danced behind his closed eyelids and the wind whipped against his skin… it felt like a reward for how hard it was for him to get out there today.

“Jean?” The voice….was too familiar. He furrowed his eyebrows a moment before slowly opening his eyes, adjusting the light shining down on him.

Through the beams Jean saw that familiar freckled face shining a smile down at him. He saw him for what he was before for just a brief moment until his vision settled on the large burn mark that riddled his face and pulled eye downward ever so slightly. The tight pink scars trailed down his neck further then the sweater he was wearing allowed him to see and his arm that had been severed just below the elbow hung to his side with the sleeve tied loosely around it. His hair had grown back a significant amount and that seemed to cover most of the side of him he seemed most insecure about. The bright yellow light behind him almost made it feel like a dream. _Marco_.

“Hey! It’s been so long.” Marco said softly, plopping down on the bench next to him. “You look so handsome…” He had this signature laugh to him that just made Jean’s stomach flutter and the promptly sour. 


	2. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look back at the events that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Its pretty personal to me. If you're a big music person, heres a list of the songs I used to try and create the atmosphere.  
> \+ Little Words - The Happy Fits  
> \+ The Halocline - Hippo Campus  
> \+ Constellations - The Oh Hellos  
> \+ Never Love an Achor - The Crane Wives  
> \+ Putting the Dog to Sleep - The Antlers

“Jean you need to slow down!” Marco laughed loudly, tugging on the sleeve of his rather ratty t-shirt. He had one twizzler hanging from his mouth and one between his index and middle finger, taunting him. The breeze was cold against the skin of Jean’s left shoulder, the window partly cracked and roaring in his left ear. The two polaroids stuck to the dashboard of his car fluttering aimlessly against the wind. One with Marco asleep, mustache drawn on his face with Connie gesturing dramatically toward him, and the other of the four of them at their junior prom. Sasha had jumped on Jean’s back the second the picture was taken and it showed by the unsightly expression Jean had mustered. They were ugly, dusty, and rather worn from cigarette ash and the typical wear and tear. This atmosphere had Jean feeling a euphoria he had never experienced. He’s had his license for a couple weeks now… and his confidence was soaring. He was flying down the road, a song bumping on practically a whisper.

“I will when you stop  _ bullying _ me.” Jean responded loudly over the sounds of the night, crickets and cicadas and every little collection of creatures that thrived in the night. Between his own fingers was a cigarette smoked about a quarter of the way. His right hand rested on the top of the steering wheel, gripped to keep the car straight as he inhaled the smoke and promptly exhaled it into Marco’s general direction. Marco grabbed at his own throat and pretended to choke on the smoke, the twizzler that had been mimicking him falling to the floor below along probably 10-15 taco bell cups that were questionably empty.

“You are killing me! I am dying and it's all your fault. Secondhand smoke kills, you know.” He jokingly coughed so hard his face was beet red, smacking his outer thigh in an attempt to ground himself.

“I literally saw you smoking a cigarette the other day.” Connie yelled, sitting himself up and resting both hands on the side of either front seat. The car wobbled a bit as he moved forward but remained under somewhat of Jean’s control.

Marco stood silent a moment before reaching back and flicking Connie in the forehead. “Mind your BUSINESS!”

“Oh!” Connie yelled dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead and withering into Sasha. “My apologies, hypocrite.”

“Dude, if I can drive with the three of you I could drive with literally anyone.” Jean mused to himself before eluding a ridiculously exaggerated gasp. “Also shut the fuck up, you did NOT! Are you stupid?” Jean laughed, turning to Marco with a smirk.

“I just wanted to know what it felt like! It was GROSS by the way. Can’t imagine what it's like to kiss you.” The boy blushed and crossed his arms overdramatically. “Cigarettes and Baja Blast… eugh.”

Jean couldn’t help but think… how fucking cute Marco was. He could drive him across the country and NEVER get sick of him… even with his insufferable attitude towards Jean’s ever worsening nicotine addiction.

“Hello, look at the road.” Sasha smacked Jean hard on the shoulder. A laugh bubbled up from his throat in response.

“Sorry, Princess didn’t know YOU had your license…” Jean laughed, stealing a twizzler from Marco and throwing it into the back seat. “Fetch.”

“You bitch!” She yelled, scrambling for the candy. “It’s barely MY fault I failed the driving test…” She picked up the twizzler from a pile of ash that had probably been accumulating for weeks much to Connie's dismay.

“You literally ran a stop sign the second you got on the road.” Connie muttered, immediately being smacked in the back of the head. “OW!”

“He made me nervous! When he got in my car he didn’t even say hello! He just slapped the clipboard and expected me to perform a miracle.”

“Woah!” Jean exclaimed, breaking rather hard when he got too close to the vehicle in front of him. The passengers of the car, much like they did every time Jean braked too hard, over exaggerated the stop. They jokingly threw themselves forward and back as the horn blared. “It’s 65, asshole!” He yelled. “Hey! Cut it out! I’m a good driver.” He turned to Marco again, reaching a hand over and squeezing his side. The freckled boy yelped out, reaching to pull his hand off of it and squeeze his fingers. 

“Damn! If you’re trying to hold my hand just ask.” He cooed, squeezing his fingers a bit tighter. Jean was so… conflicted about how he felt about Marco but he didn't take his hand away. Jean had been dealing with a lot of self discovery as he exited highschool. As much as he welcomed that change with open arms it also presented him with a THICK layer of awkwardness he had not experienced before. Come to think of it, he had subconsciously made sure that Marco was always his front seat passenger so he could pay the most attention to him… spend the most time with him… and now, he guessed, hold his hand. How embarrassing. Jean got a bit quiet, squeezing his hand back as his face erupted in dark red. 

“Aw! Marco!” Sasha let out an array of kissy noises, joined briefly after by Connie. “Are you finally going to tell Jean that you’re head over heels IRREPARABLY in love with him! Mwah!”

“Oh, absolutely. Jean, my dearest, I-”

“Marco, watch it. You’re pushing it.” Jean smiled, brushing his thumb along the back of his hand. Marco’s reaction was just a small smile, intertwining their fingers so it was more comfortable for the both of them as Jean continued to barrel down the highway.

“Can we stop for like.. McDonalds or something before we head home,  _ baby _ …” Marco cooed and laid his head against Jean’s shoulder. He really seemed to make sure that ‘baby’ dripped with sarcasm, discouraging Jean from making any further move on him.

“OH YES please dad?” Sasha said.

“Yeah dad please!! McDonalds!” Connie screamed

“MCDONALDS! MC-DO-NALDS!” They both began to chant, shaking the car as they did.

Jean lost his footing for just a moment, revving the engine before looking back at Marco. He just… felt something when looking at him. He smiled at him again more genuinely this time. The look on his face when he did… the way his blush painted his cheeks… he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Hey Watch the--” Sasha began. Before Jean could turn his head back and get his car straight he veered across the double yellow line, colliding head on with the car in front of him.

He felt as if the world had stopped for just a moment, his vision white. Jean briefly thought that this was what death felt like. Nothingness for the rest of forever. He thought he should welcome it, but couldn’t manage to hold onto it for too long.

Jean heard a low tone in his ears as they began to ring his field of vision skewered back to the situation at hand. He tried to figure out where exactly the car was oriented on the road.

“Jean wake up...” he heard Marco call in surround sound. Jean turned his head and saw Marco with double vision, face pressed to the windshield of the car. His eyes were dull and half lidded, hand still holding Jean’s but the grip was gone. “I can’t see.” He weakly called out. When the police sirens started to sound they pierced Jean’s ears, tears rolling down his face as he tried to unbuckle the seatbelt that had caused Marco to fly forward like that. He hadn't realized the car was upside down until he let it loose, Marco’s body falling further into the glass resting on the roof of the car.

“Fuck…” Jean panicked, trying to get his own seatbelt off. The fabric had dug into his skin, leaving a vicious burn across to each hip bone. When it released he heard his collar bone shift, yelping out in pain as he smashed face first into the sunroof. “Fuck fuck fuck…” he said, drooling on the glass as he crawled himself up to attempt to help move Marco off of the broken glass. Half of his face was drenched in blood to the point where he wasn't sure what was under it. He failed to move him after the nauseating sound of him crying in pain.

“Stay here… don't move.” Jean turned his head to check the back, choking and vomiting rather suddenly with the movement. He stood still for a moment while he continued to dryheave.

Connie was remotely unharmed and apparently had been screaming for quite some time trying to get his seatbelt off. 

Jean couldn’t see Sasha, weakly calling for her as he attempted to crawl over his own vomit to get to her. Marco lifted his hand and gripped Jean’s arm hard. He grounded himself, went to reach out his hand into the backseat, and promptly lost consciousness.

* * *

Jean threw himself out of an unfamiliar bed, his foot catching in the blankets as he slammed to the cold linoleum floor of the unknown hospital he was in. “Oh FUCK.” He yelled, trying to get his bearings together. The IV had slipped from his arm and blood was running down his forearm but he couldn’t even find it in himself to care. His chest was tight, his breathing was erratic and he felt like he physically couldn’t calm down.

“Jean!” His mom called out, dropping to her knees to try and help him. In a state of pure psychosis he slapped her hands away from him, scrambling to his hands and knees. His whole being was shaking. Regardless of how much he tried to hold back he hiccuped and violently vomited on the floor again, sobbing as his mom rubbed his back. He was shakey on his hands, lifting one and crudely wiping his mouth.

“Where’s Marco… Connie… Sasha…” He asked, hanging his head.

“Connie and Sasha are fine… just a couple scrapes and bruises. Sasha needed stitches but they’re alright.” She cooed lovingly, crying as she kissed the back of his head. A nurse rushed into the room to try and help him get back up onto the bed but he fought her too, angrily flailing his arm around. “Marco.. Where’s…”

“Honey… get back up into the bed.” His mom took on a more stern tone.

“Is he dead? Oh my god I killed him… I fucking killed him.”

The nurse leaned down, tucking her arms under his armpits to jank Jean forcibly up from his place on the floor.

“25mg of Haldol.” 

“NO!” He yelled. The force used to restrain him caused immense pain but he couldn’t think about that. He wanted kill himself so fucking badly it didn’t matter how bad it hurt. He kicked and thrashed as a doctor came at him, failing to knock the incoming needle out of his hand.

“No…” he phased out as they slammed the needle into him, his body slowly slumping down into their arms. “I killed somebody… It should have been me…”

“Jean…” His mother sobbed.

The nurse was able to get him back into his bed as another pressed gauze to his bleeding arm. He physically could not fight back anymore, just quietly crying as they restrained him to the bed. First his wrists and then his ankles. He felt so powerless.

“Did I kill him, mom?”

“I.. don’t know, baby.” She leaned herself in, cradling his head and lovingly petting his hair back. “I need you to stay calm for me baby. Let the doctors do their job and-”

“Please tell me, I can take it.”

“Jean honey I  _ don’t know _ … I saw Marco’s parents come in but I didn’t stop to talk to them. All I was thinking about was you…”

Jean silently cried, embarrassed by how much he was drooling and snotting all over the place. He wouldn’t be able to sleep that night without his IV but it didn’t stop him from fighting it tooth and nail before his body slowly gave in.

* * *

Jean woke up the next morning in a haze, birds chirping out his window. His mother had not come in to see him yet so he felt a bit more comfortable refusing to eat, refusing medication, truly forcing himself to suffer. He didn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t believe what happened last night. Everything felt like a fucked up dream he couldn’t wake up from. 

He looked down at his arms and yanked them upwards, frustrated that he was still restrained. He certainly understood why, his disregard for his own well being was a pretty good reason. He just couldn’t get out of the mindset that they were protecting someone like him from himself. 

The meds they had given him yesterday made him so groggy and nauseous it was becoming unbearable…

“Jean.” His mom said with a soft smile, making her way into the room. “Good morning sweetie.”

“Good morning, momma.” He groggily replied, yanking at his restraints again. “Can they take these off me now?”

“Not yet baby… but I brought you something.” She said, lifting up a cup of coffee and shaking it a bit for him. “Sit up a little bit so you don’t choke.”

Jean looked up at her and nodded, yelping a bit as he sat himself up as much as he could. His mother guided the cup to his lips and gently pet his hair. “So, I got some news.”

Jean sputtered a bit as he finished taking his sip, looking up at her. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“Jean. Is it really the time?”

“Okay… sorry sorry.” He said rather deadpan. “Trying out this new thing called humor...”

“Anyway.” She began, setting the cup down beside him. “I think it will make you feel a little better to know that Marco is doing okay. He’s in the ICU but he’s making good progress. He’s in the same hospital we are… I think it might be nice if you paid him a visit once he got out of surgery. I’ve bribed enough orderlies in my day to make it work.” 

Jean paused a minute, his heart racing in his chest. “Surgery?”

“Yes, dear… I think I’ve already said too much. the doctors asked me not to-”

“Just fucking tell me.” He interrupted, trying to catch his breath after he realized he had been holding it. He watched his mother go to reprimand him for his language but catch herself.

“Okay...He... suffered a lot of trauma to the head, had some bleeding on the brain. With some physical therapy he might be able to walk again, but they’re not sure yet. He hasn’t been awake for a while so they can’t gauge if there was any brain damage, or if it was permanent… I’m so sorry, Jean.. you really-” she paused, covering her quivering mouth for a moment. “You really messed up this time. I can’t… fix this.”

“Don’t-” he began, but she was already crying.

“You are such a smart boy… but this? Jean…”

“Please… don’t… don’t give up on me. I made a mistake…”

“Jean I could  _ never _ give up on you.” She reassured him. She pet back his hair which had become greasy and matted from the sweat and blood still caking his scalp. “I just can’t bear the thought of you… living with this for the rest of your life...”

“Please untie me.” He begged. “Please.”

His mother leaned herself down, kissing his forehead.

* * *

It was a couple days before Jean was able to get out of bed. In total he had broken his collarbone, fractured his tibia, and had one hell of a concussion. He could barely remember a lot of what happened when he was admitted and was sure to spare himself the details, as well as his mother having to relive it. His recovery started with a couple steps down the hallway with a walker, grateful for the grip of the hospital socks, before graduating to taking his steps without aid. His goal was to be able to visit Marco and see how he was doing for himself. Having not seen him he might as well have been dead. The thought haunted his every waking moment.

Even when the doctors had scolded him for trying to push himself too far he politely ignored them and continued to walk every chance he got.

He huffed as he sat himself back down on his hospital bed. The sun had gone down and golden hour had begun, the dust in the air dancing around the beams of light cascading in between the blinds and falling gracefully against his pillow. He waited for his mother to come, as he did every day, but she had been working quite a lot. He wondered briefly if it was because she couldn’t bear to look at him. If that was the case he would understand. Jean hadn’t looked in the mirror in fear he wouldn’t recognize the man looking back at him.

“Look at you… I’ve barely seen you sit.” A nurse said softly, entering the room. Jean looked up at her before looking away with furrowed eyebrows. “Oh, still cranky as usual, Mr. Kirschstein. Even when I bring you good news..” She said in a singsong voice.

Jean stayed quiet, hiking up his elbows defensively. “What good news could you possibly give me?”

The nurse pouted, walking over to him and bending down to try and get a good look at him. “Your friend, Marco. He woke up this morning. He’s been asking for you non-stop. Wants me to bring you over to him when you’re done sulking.” She grinned.

He avoided eye contact as much as he could but when she brought Marco up his eyes flicked back and forth from her to the clock on the wall. “Really?”

“Yes! Of course.”

“What did he say?”

The nurse settled her elbows against her knees. “He asked me… how you were doing and if you were okay… and when you would be able to come to see him.”

Jean kept his defenses up, unsure if this was something he was capable of right now.

“Come on… I can take you to him… I’m sure it would make him feel a lot better knowing you were there.” She gently pat his knee. “You walked around all morning. Let me get you a chair and I'll take you to him.”

“Okay.” He finally gave in. “But, I’ll walk there myself… just tell me where to go.” Jean gripped the bed rail and attempted to sit himself on the very edge of the bed. His nurse moved to help him but he put his hand up at her. He had to be able to do this himself.

Once he got on his feet it was a lot easier then the transition from sitting. Jean’s hand wrapped around the cold steel bar his IV bags hung from and got on his way accompanied by his nurse. He resented the weakness in his knees as he passed room after room, having to stop briefly before entering a wing of the hospital Marco was in. The tone was so much heavier as he weakly pushed himself past those doors. It was eerily quiet. Family members were in chairs either chewing their nails or sleeping outside of doors… 

He reached his hand out and brushed the tips of his fingers slowly against the pristine white walls to keep himself steady between rows of chairs.

They had made it to the door marked ‘Marco’, before Jean started having any doubts about this. Could he face him? Could he stomach what was behind the door knowing he had caused all of this? He paused with his palm firmly pressed to the handle. Open the door, he thought. Open it.

He pressed down and shoved the door open with a bit more force then he meant to, stumbling a bit as he entered the room and peered over at the boy in the bed. He was… god, Jean couldn’t even describe it. Marco’s face had been bandaged tightly, his brown locks peeking out from the gauze and fluttering against his forehead. The bandages ranged in size and thickness but covered so much of his tan freckled skin. Jean felt guilt run through him… but Marco’s face perking up and breaking into a grin made him able to shuffle closer. He was alive… he was right in front of him and he was alive.

“I was wondering when you’d come.” Marco’s voice cracked in his throat. His smile didn’t break. “You look like shit.”

Jean couldn’t help but laugh, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He fought crying in front of him as his knees buckled. “Fuck..” His voice wavered. “Your hand.”

Marco looked perplexed before lifting up his arm. He marveled at the bandages before nervously chuckling. “Yeah… I’ll have to get used to that… not every day you lose your dominant hand huh?”

“Stop… fucking joking.” Jean said, stumbling a bit as he continued to struggle on his feet.

Marco’s expression twisted suddenly as tears immediately ran down his face, tracing the wounds that the liquid stitches were forcing closed.. “I’m sorry.” 

The guilt only intensified for Jean as he watched him cry like that. He had never seen anyone cry like that in his life. There was so much sadness behind his eyes he had to look away. The only way he could think of to comfort him was to take his hand, cradling it in fear he would hurt him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” A shrill voice called. The door had been slammed open so hard he swore it shook the entire hospital wing. Ahead of his attempts to turn towards whoever was yelling he felt a hand with sharp coffin nails on his shoulder shoving him back. He took a step, and then two, before steadying himself against the force. “You stay the fuck away from my son. Do you hear me?” Marco’s mother stuck a finger in his face as she spit angrily through her words. “You ruined my son's life… and then you come here for what? ANSWER ME!”

“I’m sorry… I-” Jean sobbed out. He shakily put his hands up in front of him when she got too close for comfort. 

“You don’t come here to visit him. You don’t text him. You don’t show up to my fucking house. The second you set foot near my son again I swear to fucking god--” She continued to make threats until a rather burly nurse bust into the scene to get between them. Jean had expected this reaction even though he was destroyed by the outcome. She was right. He might as well have killed him and he deserves to be miserable for what he’s done. He deserved to be beaten down and so much more. Another nurse came into the room with a chair and this time Jean didn’t fight being pushed down hard into it to remove him from the situation.

Jean couldn’t see Marco’s reaction but his brain filled in the gaps for him as he was ushered out of his room. If he didn’t hate him… he really should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are some spelling errors!  
> Also!! Shoot a comment if you like it! No pressure. I'm just happy to be here :)


	3. Bonfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha convinces (forces) Jean to get himself back out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little happier, I really really enjoyed writing this chapter I hope you like it!  
> Songs to Vibe to while reading:  
> \+ Home To Me - Devil and the Deep Blue Sea  
> \+ Happy - Mother Mother  
> \+ Cellar Door (Demo) - Hippo Campus  
> \+ Slip Away - Perfume Genius

_ “Hey! It’s been so long.” Marco said softly, plopping down on the bench next to him. “You look so handsome…” He had this signature laugh to him that just made Jean’s stomach flutter and the promptly sour. _

* * *

“I have to go.” Jean said rather suddenly, shooting up from the bench. “Thank you, uh, bye.” He murmured. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and started to make his way… literally anywhere that wasn't here.

“Jean, please wait-” Marco called. Jean turned his head just quick enough to see his sad expression and it burned a hole in his heart. He could never face him after that. It wasn't that he was afraid of his mom’s empty threats, well, maybe it was 15% that. 

The other 85% was he simply couldn’t handle looking at him knowing he had done all that damage to him. He didn’t care if Marco thought he didn’t want to be around him. He didn't deserve to be around him anyway.

He quickly turned a corner and slammed his back against the brick wall behind him, sinking down into the grass. He reached his hand up and dug it into his hair in attempts to ground himself. Fuck. He still had 15 days to drop… try again next year…

“Don’t run away.” Marco rounded the corner, crossing his arms. “Why can’t you just talk to me like a person? Do I look that disgusting?” Marco asked. Jean could always tell when Marco was about to cry by the way his eyebrows furrowed in desperate attempts to stop it. “I was really excited to see you… when Connie said he ran into you I-”

Jean stayed quiet, pressing both hands to his face so he didn’t have to watch him cry. “I… I don't care.”

“That’s not fair!” Marco yelled, moving to grab one of Jean’s wrists and yank it from his face. “You don’t get to not care… not after everything.” He stopped yelling; pretty soon after finishing his sentence he saw Jean looking directly up at him. “You’re not the one who gets to be pathetic… you hear me?” He said a bit more softly. “Get up.”

Jean wanted to cower and ask for forgiveness but his immediate reaction betrayed him, keeping silent as he kept his eyes on him. He had healed really well, he thought to himself. 

“Please talk to me…” Finally, Marco had started to cry, getting down on his knees with Jean’s arm still in his grip. “I hate pretending we don’t know each other.” 

Jean felt like he couldn’t say a fucking word… he opened his mouth to talk but instead time stood still. “I’m gonna throw up.”

Marco looked perplexed but when Jean leaned over he shifted to his feet and tried to help Jean get on his hands and knees. “C’mon…” Marco cooed, using his remaining hand to gently rub his back.

Jean hung his head, expecting to vomit something other then stomach bile into the grass. Unfortunately for him he hadn’t bothered to eat this morning and that was all that came up.

How fucking embarrassing…

“You’re okay…” Marco cooed, patting his back a bit.

“Don’t touch me…” Jean responded, but did nothing about it. He kept his head hanging rather pathetically. Marco only moved to rub the back of his neck.

“What can I do to help?” Marco continued quietly.

“Just give up. I’ll be fine.” He shook his sleeve from where it was bunched up at his elbow, spitting into the grass and wiping his mouth. 

Marco was clearly attempting to be empathetic but his patience was running thin. 

“Do you want me to give up on you? Do you want me to be angry with you? What do you want…” He asked.

“I want you to be FURIOUS!” Jean yelled and startled Marco more than he intended to. “I want you to hate me for what I did! That's what I want.” His tone dripped with anger.

Marco was silent for a moment before standing up, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“The only one who hates you for what you did is yourself. Sasha, Connie… Me… no one gave up on you. You gave up on yourself. And you know what's fucked up about that? All we ever did was love and forgive you… and you couldn’t even appreciate it. You just dissapeared and that was the worst thing you could have fucking done. And we STILL forgive you.” 

Jean refused to look up at him.

“...” Marco paused. Jean knew he was waiting for something but couldn’t figure out what it was. His fingers were restlessly twitching at his sides. “Try… being around.” Marco’s tone softened. “And let us decide for ourselves if we regret letting you.”

* * *

When Jean got home he immediately crawled himself into his bed, wrapping his entire body around one of his tattered pillows. Marco was right… he was always right. He was the only person who was  _ ever _ right about anything. 

Jean didn’t bother to tell his mom about the interaction when she picked him up, mulling it over in his own head. If Marco was right, which he almost certainly was, he didn’t even know how to go about changing it. He didn’t know how, or if, he could pull himself out of this destructive and selfish slump.

He moved from his fetal position onto his back, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Maybe it had been.

“Honey!” His mom called from downstairs. “Some friends are here for you!”

Jean scowled, covering his eyes with the back of his left hand. “Tell them I’m dead.”

“That’s not very nice of you.” Armin peeked into his room, followed only by Sasha. “Oh god… you said it would be bad but not  _ this _ bad…” Armin whispered to her, taking in the depression hole that was now Jean’s entire room.

“Hey!” Jean uncovered his eyes, turning over to the both of them. 

“Sorry, Jean.” Armin said with a soft smile. Sasha immediately grabbed Armin and shook him by the shoulders. 

“No!! We’re here for a reason!” She yelled. 

A hand suddenly came down and bonked Sasha on the crown of her head. “You’re going to give him shaking baby syndrome, idiot.” Annie furrowed her eyebrows, taking Armin by the arm. After all this time he was still a bit frail, his body jolting before settling against her.

Jean felt like they were multiplying, groaning lowly as he rapidly threw his blankets over his head. “Go. Away.”

“Fuck no… you’re coming out with us….” Sasha wiggled her fingers on the way to Jean’s bed, pulling the blanket away just as he released it from between his fingers. “You were so nice to me earlier today where did that energy go…” she crawled up into the bed, sprawling out on top of him.

He couldn’t help but start to laugh, a bit of seriousness breaking through. “Come on… Sasha-- mmh-” he murmured as she covered his mouth.

“Reiner is in the car in case we have to take you by force.” She said, turning to Annie nodding agreeably. 

“It’s probably in your best interest to get in the car without it coming to that.” Annie commented.

“Your mom also did, in fact, give us full permission to kidnap you.” Armin chimed in.

Jean lifted his left hand and pretended to wave a white flag, mostly forced since he was running out of oxygen and was positive Sasha would kill him if need be.

When she saw it she sprung up tugging at the back of his shirt. The brute force of her hand choked him a bit with the fabric. He retaliated, wailing his arm back and knocking her to the bed. The way her voice was loud and then so suddenly muffled by his multitude of pillows elicited a loud laugh from the boy, followed by a hard cough from being practically smothered. “Okay that's enough.” She yelled, turning onto her back with her hands up in surrender. “You’re gonna come with us! Get your shoes on!”

Jean’s chest heaved, getting a good handle on himself before giving in. “Fine! Fine! Get out of my bed…I’ll go.” He said softly, turning to Armin and Annie in case they had any surprises up their sleeves. Them together was one thing he would have NEVER expected to begin with…

“Who else is gonna be there?”

“Uh… the four of us… Connie, Reiner… Bert might meet us there. Eren said maybe, which means no… and if Eren isn’t going either is Mikasa…” Sasha rambled off, counting on her fingers. “Who am I forgetting?”

“Marco-” Armin chimed in, but weakly trailed off when Sasha shot him a look.

“Oh.” Jean said, picking at the loose threads on his shirt. “Does he know I'm gonna be there?”

Annie scoffed. “No shit… he’s the one who said we should invite you.”

Sasha shook her hands. “No! We were gonna invite you anyway! Annie!” She seethed between her grit teeth. Jean couldn’t help but break a smile. He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss this. Jean’s eyes flit from Sasha to Annie during the short interaction. He thought the difference between Sasha being so animated and Annie’s ‘tell it like it is’ attitude was continuously hysterical. “Marco simply…  _ recommended _ , that we not tell you that he was going to be there until we got you into the car.” 

“If you need to throw up we have a Walmart bag in the back but there's most definitely holes in it.” Armin said in an attempt to be friendly. Jean’s face went DARK red. He felt... so horrifically embarrassed he started to sweat.

“Oh my god he told you-”

“Guys! This is a disaster! Just get him in the car before you tell him you read his diary too!” Sasha groaned.

Jean slowly got out of bed, adjusting his t-shirt on his way to grab the only clean hoodie he had right now. “Where are we going anyway?” He asked through the fabric as he slid it on.

“Bonfire at my Dad’s farm. He said as long as we clean up and don’t set the crops on fire we’re good.” Sasha said, awkwardly poking at an unidentified food item Jean had just… left sitting out. “This… is growing something.” She said to herself, moving to wipe it off on Jean’s bedsheets. 

He turned his head and adjusted his hood. “Will you- ugh. Get out.”

“What? It's gross! What is- or should I say… was it? Mac and Cheese?” 

Jean managed to usher them out of his horrendous room pretty quick once he had his shoes on. Before leaving he gave his mom a kiss goodbye, promising to be back before midnight. She seemed… excited for him and not at ALL worried about his returning ETA.

He sat in the car next to Armin, staying rather quiet as he took in the sights and sounds of being a part of things again. He had feared, before the accident happened even, that they would all grow apart once they went to college but that didn’t seem to be the case at all. It felt the same way it did before. Jean seemed to be the only one out of the loop.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Armin’s voice had brought him out of his deep thought, the boy nudging his shoulder against him. In the background Sasha was singing loudly and incredibly poorly to a song on Reiner’s car playlist. “Marco… didn’t tell us because it was hot gossip. He’s really worried about you.” 

Jean tried to stay relatively neutral about it but it clearly struck a nerve. “You don't… need to be sorry…”

“I just don’t want you to think that he publicly shits on your name or something.” Armin said. 

“You don’t think that even if he did he kindof has a right to?” Jean felt oddly comfortable talking to him. “Don’t you think what I did to him was… irreparable?”

“Don’t  _ you _ think you’ve suffered enough? It’s been almost a year. You’ve driven yourself into the ground… sure, we were all mad at first but it could just as easily have been me in the driver's seat. Don’t you think some things are meant to happen for a reason? To make you stronger?” Armin said softly, digging his hand into his backpack to grab a bag of chips. He crinkled it open and offered Jean a few which he kindly declined. 

“I wish we were closer at the time.” Armin said with a smile. “You are a huge dick, but every once and a while you’re just enough of a dick to contradict yourself and show that you really cared. You think you need to suffer for what you’ve done so that's what you do. It’s probably what you’ve always done… which is sweet in a way, but damaging in the long run.” He paused to put, like, 10 chips into his mouth at once, which Jean couldn’t help but focus in on. “I hope you can have fun tonight. I know at least one someone who really wants to see you do that.” Armin covered his mouth as crumbs fell all over his lap. 

Jean felt uncomfortable thinking about it and quickly changed the subject. “So… you and Annie? Are you guys… together?” He whispered.

Armin just shrugged his shoulders. “I’m on probation. She’s pretty guarded so sometimes I think we’re together, sometimes I'm a purse Chihuahua.. but she’s pretty so I can’t complain.” Armin crinkled the bag of chips closed and shoved them in the netting behind the seat in front of him. “Afraid one day she might snap and stab me… and even then I'd thank her.”

Jean let out a genuine laugh. “How’s Bert taking it?”

“Oh, don’t even start--” Armin wiped the crumbs from his lap onto the floor with little regard for the cleanliness of a car that wasn't his. “He doesn’t know and it’s probably better that way… we keep the peace, Reiner doesn't have to listen to Bert cry for a little while longer. Win win.”

It took them a little while to get to Sasha’s Dad’s place, considering it was pretty far out east and Reiner drove 5 miles under the speed limit at ALL times, the drive was definitely a good time to unwind before the destination. Jean forgot constantly, but Armin was really wise. That was why a lot of their friend group respected him.

“Come with me.” Sasha slammed open the back passenger side door and yanked the sleeve of Jean’s hoodie. He looked back at Armin to give a silent ‘to be continued’ before he followed Sasha toward the fire that was already roaring in the pit.

“Look who’s crawled out of his hole!” Sasha laughed, skipping towards the group of people sitting on tree stumps. She threw out her arms and gestured Jean with little jazz hands.

“No way! You managed to kidnap him without physical injury.” Connie jumped out of his spot holding a stick with a burning marshmallow on the end up into the air. “A victory for Miss Sasha Braus again!”

She bent her knees and pretended to curtsy for him. “My, is it tiring to be the glue that holds our friendships together!”

Jean took a look around and saw Marco over by where Reiner was picking up sticks to keep the fire going. He was happy and laughing, poking Reiner in the side with sticks. He watched as Reiner warned him once, then twice, before switching his current collection of sticks to his right hand so he could grab Marco by the belly and jokingly throw the boy up over his left shoulder. He could hear his laugh and squeals of joy as he was carried around hanging upside down against Reiner’s back. 

“I think you guys lost something!” Reiner called over, wiggling so Marco shook back and forth like a ragdoll. “Do you want this back?”

Jean felt the confidence to say something rose in his throat but ended up staying quiet, smiling softly as Connie and Armin went running through the tall grass to retrieve him. 

“It’s beautiful out tonight isn’t it?” Sasha came up behind him, slipping a cigarette behind his ear. Jean’s soul jumped ten feet out of his body.

“Fuck you scared me… yeah it really is.” His hand felt around and pulled it from his ear. “Oh, thanks.”

She nodded, pulling another one out of her pack with her teeth before closing it up and pressing it into her back pocket. She clicked her torch lighter a couple of times struggling to keep it lit long enough to light hers. Instead of attempting to light his with it she leaned forward expectantly. He stared at her a minute until he understood what she was trying to do. He gracefully slid the cigarette into his mouth and leaned forward, pressing the end of his against the butt of Sashas burning one. She inhaled as he puffed on the filter to transfer the embers with both of her hands on either side to keep the wind from extinguishing it. “All good?” 

“Mhm…” Jean murmured through his partially closed lips. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment and then exhaled slowly.

“Good.” She said, pulling back and exhaling in the direction the wind was blowing. She remained close to him, crossing her arms as the wind blew her hair out into an unruly mess. The sun was so low in the sky the fire was starting to be the only source of light keeping her in his sight. “It’s cold.” She commented. 

“Want my hoodie?” He tugged on the fabric a bit to sweeten the offer. 

“Haha.. yeah, thank you.” She took Jean’s cigarette from his hand so he could take it off and vice versa when it was time for her to put it on. It was pretty cold but he wasn't going to complain much. He had planned to just sit by the fire and enjoy the night. He handed her back her cigarette as she snuggled up into herself. It seemed she had caught a glimpse of something behind Jean but held her tongue, chuckling a bit. She couldn’t be any more transparent if she tried. “Do you regret coming?”

“No. I regret being so fucking awkward, though.” He took another slow deep inhale of his cigarette before watching it dissipate into the air.

“You’ll get over it… anyway-” She shifted on her left foot, digging it into the dirt. “It looks like someone wants to talk to you. Bye.” She pivoted and took off speed walking towards the bonfire to throw in the sticks Reiner had meticulously collected. Jean turned himself around to see Marco, grass and dirt tangled in his hair from playing around in the field for a bit. 

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Marco smiled down at his feet a moment before meeting his eyes. “Do you want to come have a beer with us?” He gestured towards Reiner, Armin and Connie, all of which were covered in the same amount of dirt and debris. Jean took in the last of the smoke from his cigarette before the filter and tossed it onto the ground. He stomped his foot down and worked it into the dirt all while shoving his hands nervously into his pockets. “Uh, sure. I’d like that a lot.”

Marco’s face lit up, leaning in and taking his arm. “You can sit next to me.”

He didn’t fight him tugging him towards the group even though the remnants of guilt were swimming around in his still empty stomach. Everyone hollered loudly when they walked over, smashing their closed beer cans together in celebration. 

“The band is officially back together… kind of.” Connie counted on his fingers before pouting. “We’re only missing like 5 of us… what the fuck I thought Historia and Ymir said they were coming.”

Annie briefly looked at her phone as she rested her head against Armin’s shoulder. “I’m not so sure they’re gonna make it. They dorm closer to the city.”

“Bert should be coming around 8.” Reiner said, checking his phone as well. “I might have to go pick him up which means one of my passengers is going to have to swap cars on the way back.”

The voices began to fade for Jean since he paid a lot of his attention to Marco when they sat down together. The fire made up for the brilliant idea to give up his hoodie in the middle of fall.

“Jean, why don’t you squeeze in with me and Marco. It makes a lot more sense that way since we all live relatively close.” Connie tossed him a beer that he gladly accepted.

“Connie is driving, to be clear.” Marco said, patting Jean’s thigh with his hand to pretend to console him.

“That’s arguably worse.” Jean said, moving to gently put his hand on top of his. Marco quickly moved it and he tried to not let that hurt his feelings.

Jean hadn’t had a night like this in such a long time. He watched the group get along like they always had. When the fire started to die Jean excused himself to Connie’s car to try and find something… anything to get himself warm. He clicked open the door and grabbed the first hoodie he saw. Once he made sure it was… at least somewhat clean he slammed the door a bit too hard and turned his head to make sure no one had heard. He was way more used to his mom’s car door shutting quieter then that. He made a face to himself and slipped into the hoodie. “Anyone got a lighter?” He called over to the group, lifting his hand and mimicked lighting it for the people who didn’t hear him. As the group mumbled along he pulled out another cigarette and let it hang from his mouth.

Finally after standing there waiting someone pulled one out of their pocket, handing it over to Marco for him to walk it over.

He sauntered over and held it out to him. Jean knew he was probably going to immediately turn around so in a burst of impulsivity he gently took his wrist instead. “Can we talk?”

Marco was shocked by it but he didn’t pull away. “Huh? Of course.” He said, a little flustered as Jean let go of him. “But first…” he said, attempting to block the wind with his injured arm as his hand sparked the lighter.

Marco’s face illuminated by the soft yellow light made Jean’s ears go red. He shifted his stance and bent down, inhaling the flame into the end of his cigarette. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Marco tucked the lighter into his own back pocket. “So…?”

Jean averted his gaze for a moment. He tried to figure out what words to use and when to start saying them but he lost it. “I guess… I wanted to apologize for how Ive been acting and treating you… I just haven't been the same since… and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same person ever again and I’m not sure how to navigate it.” He said, his eyes frantically trying to find something other than him to look at.

“Jean, are you in therapy?” Marco inquired. “Sorry if that was blunt…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jean waved his hand to dismiss it. “Yeah, I have been for a bit now.”

“And you’re being honest with your therapist?”

Jean bit at the inside of his cheek. “More or less.”

“That’s all you can do. You WON’T ever be the same… but it doesn’t mean you can't be someone you’re proud of.” Marco smiled, moving to take his hand and guide Jean’s cigarette into his own mouth. He only took in a bit of smoke and held it before exhaling. “Starting with… talking about it. See? This is good.”

Jean admired him as the smoke twisted around his face. “I guess so… it doesn’t excuse anything. I should have been there for you.” He brought his cigarette back up to his lips but Marco stopped his hand before he could take a drag. 

“It’s _ really _ good, give yourself the credit. You weren’t even there for  _ yourself _ .” He said sternly, stealing the cigarette out of his hand and bringing it to his lips. After a brief silence he spoke up again. “Did you get to say everything you wanted?”

“For the most part.”

Marco tilted his head towards him. “Not ready for the rest?” 

“Not yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think!   
> Also I refuse ALL critique on putting Armin and Annie together. I stand by wHat i said 👀


	4. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco have a talk they've been needing to have. Sasha recommends a support group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, nice to see you again! It took me a bit longer to get this chapter out then I had hoped, but it has a bit more happy in it. I've been doing a lot of research when it comes to coping and I'm trying to give it a more realistic feel! I hope you enjoy :>  
> Song's to Listen to:  
> \+ Agoraphobia - Autoheart

Jean rolled over on his bed, his phone gripped between both hands. He spent more time staring at the damn message than he did deciding how he was going to respond to it. He had given Marco his phone number after the bonfire the other night, not expecting him to message him so soon after. There was an undeniable connection between them, there always has been, but he didn’t expect the intensity to be this… overwhelming all over again.

_ > Hey! Are you free by any chance? _

Jean pushed his hair back, furrowing his eyebrows to really focus on what he was doing. It was easy… say Hello, wait for his response. That's it. Nothing else to it.

**_ > Hey. _ **

**_ > I’m never really busy. _ **

He groaned to himself. He must sound so uninterested… well, he could fix that...

**_ > :P _ **

UGH now it felt unnatural. He overdramatically rolled over and shoved his face into his pillow. This was so stupid. Why was this so hard?

_ > Haha! You’re so cute. Can I come over for a little in like an hour? I’m in the area for PT and you’re only a 5 min walk. 🥺 _

_ > Feel free to say no, it’s a lot to ask _

Jean turned his head and… smiled. For a moment he figured things could go back to the way they were before his head began to cloud up with unnecessary thoughts. Maybe this was all an elaborate joke… Maybe this would end the way he felt things always did.

He threw himself out of his bed with a force that practically blew the blankets away, scaling the stairs with a plethora of hard thumps and running into where his mom was in the living room.

His mother was already turned around in her seat, the book she was reading turned over on the floor. “Jesus, honey! You scared me! What’s wrong?” She said, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Marco wants to come over and hang out and my room is a mess! It's so embarrassing and I don't even know how to entertain him by myself and- ”

“Jean! Calm down..” His mom stood up. She made her way over to him and gently cradled his cheeks. “Deep breaths okay?”

“I’m _trying_.” He strained, his chest heaving as he gripped his phone. He locked eyes with his mom as he started to come down from the panic attack.

“Do you… want him to come over? I’ll help you clean up your room…” she slid her hand up and gently combed his hair back with her fingers. “And we can order some pizza! What do you think?”

“I don’t know.” He muttered. On one hand he really did want to see him… but on the other-

She smiled and pinched his cheeks. “Yes you do, you can’t lie to your mother.” 

He inhaled and embarrassingly choked on his own spit, coughing out. “I do want to see him… it’s just hard…”

“It doesn’t have to be, baby…” 

Jean furrowed his eyebrows and hesitantly nodded. “Okay… okay…”

“Did you take your meds, baby?”

“Yeah, I did this morning.”

“Good! You can do this! I’m so proud of you my little bug.” She cooed. 

“Mooooom.” His cheeks tinted a soft pink color much to his mom's delight. 

“What? You’re doing so good lately… taking your meds… showering…”

Jean felt really good when she said that, a confidence he hadn't felt in a while resurfacing on the other side of his panic attack. She noticed. “Thanks, momma.” He said. “I think I’m gonna invite him over… I think I’m going to do it.”

“Good! Why don’t we go upstairs and clean that room of yours? It doesn’t have to be spotless, we can start with the food items, cups and plates and if you get overwhelmed we can just compress the mess and deal with it later.” She leaned in and softly kissed his forehead. “My baby boy… oh I love you so much I could squish you.”

“Uuugh you’re pushing your luck!”

“I can’t help it!” She laughed, pulling back to pet his cheek with her thumb. “Let’s go.”

Jean loved his mom so much it was embarrassing. They went upstairs together and cleaned up the most that they could in the hour they had. They had made a lot of progress rather quickly and had regained most of his mom’s dishes that were lost in the abyss within the first 20 minutes. Now Jean could see the floor, which luckily was remotely untouched from any spillage or sludge that had accumulated instead on his dirty clothes. It was the unseen stuff that made the vacuum crackle and spit as they ran it over. That being said, the laundry pile left after was ridiculous. His mother offered to store them in the laundry room for now, which he kindly agreed to and helped her carry down almost 5 full laundry baskets. While they were down there his mom folded up some backup sheets and an old comforter for him. “Here.”

They headed back upstairs and finalized the cleaning session with trading out the sheets.

“Er… can we just throw those out…” Jean asked, holding the old fitted sheet closed like a garbage bag. It was caked in food, soda, and various other liquids not worth mentioning. “I don’t… think that there's any saving these…”

She reached over and kept it closed as carefully as she could. “Sure. We can go to the store and get you some new ones my next paycheck.” 

Jean went to say something in response but couldn’t get anything out before two faint knocks interrupted him. He looked like a deer in headlights, his eyes pleading for help.

“Coming!” His mom called out, quickly shoving the sheet into the last garbage bag and grabbing her son’s shoulders. “You can do this! I’ll send him upstairs… act natural.” 

Jean nodded. “Natural.. Okay… uh...” he mused, quickly sitting on his bed. He pressed the palm of his hands to his blankets and pushed out the wrinkles.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kirschtein. So nice to see you again!” Marco’s voice came into range as he neared the hallway. He peeked in the room first before stepping in. Armin had probably told him how bad his trash dump of a room was so Jean was proud when he walked in he didn’t have to see all that. He didn’t deserve to. He was so tired of Marco feeling bad for him.

“Hey!” Marco smiled wide, walking over to sit on his bed next to him. “I hope it’s alright if I stay a little while…”

“Yeah, of course. I’m happy to have you here.” Jean felt an intense impulse to scoot himself further away from him but managed to talk himself down from it.

“Aw, I like that, happy Jean is my favorite- Oh by the way I _love_ your Mom. I missed her a lot, she's so funny.”

Jean couldn’t help but smile. “She’s great. She probably missed you too!”

Marco got a bit quiet but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence… it was just calming. They were able to make small talk for a bit, something Jean was worried wouldn’t come to him easily. Marco asked about what he was majoring in and then promptly went off about his own major when Jean didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it. Their comfort level went from their straight sitting positions to relaxed lounging quicker then he had anticipated and he was so grateful for that. He got to have real moments with the boy, admiring his every word. He talked so elegantly about all of the things he had been doing… Jean wished he could give him the satisfaction of hearing what he was up to. Not like any of that was interesting or as great as the strides Marco had been making. Learning to live with one hand was a challenge he was so proud of Marco for overcoming.

After a while Jean noticed longer pauses between Marco’s words then normal. He wasn’t able to hold eye contact either, which usually meant something was on his mind. He would never be able to forget Marco's tells.

“There’s something you want to talk about.” Jean cut into Marco’s hesitation. “I can tell.”

“I actually… have been wanting to ask you something… I guess I just need the closure before we can… fall back into our friendship.” He said, his cheeks painted in a soft blush.

“Sure… it’s only fair I give you that.” Jean moved to rub the shaved bit on the back of his neck. He really didn’t want to talk about something this deep right now, knowing Marco deserved to say his piece.

“That night…” Marco began, looking down at his lap. “I thought there was something… between us.”

“Like… distance?”

Marco chuckled. “No… like the complete opposite…” he waved around his hand a bit. “Like I thought you _liked_ me or something…”

Jean didn’t know what to say, turning his head so Marco couldn’t see his embarrassment. 

“It’s okay if you didn’t! Jesus, I'm bad with words. I just wanted to know if the feeling was mutual.” 

The silence creeped in again but it was awkward this time.

Jean wasn’t sure what to say, turning back to him but still not meeting his eyes. “I… don’t know how I felt at the time… you were my best friend, and I loved being around you. I didn’t hate holding your hand either.” He chuckled. His attempt to ease the tension worked better than he thought. "I don't think I had really figured it out for sure."

“I don’t think in the entire time I’ve known you you’ve ever given me a straight answer. You always beat around the bush. I know things are different now… fuck, it's been a year and we don’t know each other that well anymore… but back then-” Marco paused to take his hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb along his knuckles. “I really did like you…”

Jean finally met his eyes when he said that, feeling more vulnerable than he was used to. Marco’s eyes were so gorgeous, brown with specks of green when the light hit them just right. Jean thought about how grateful he was for Marco to have been able to keep both of them almost perfectly intact.

They just sat silently looking at each other… until Marco leaned in close, his eyes fluttering shut. For a moment Jean considered leaning in too. He wished they could pick up from here… but…

Jean suddenly put his hand up and pressed on Marco’s shoulder to stop him barely an inch from his lips. Everything in his body screamed to kiss him but he knew better then to bring this into the mix of emotions they were both dealing with right now.

Marco’s eyes shot open, staying close before shrinking back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry…” he exhaled.

“No… no, don’t be.” Jean quickly moved to turn and take his hand, holding it between both of his. “It’s not you…”

“I know, I know… it wasn’t fair of me to do this… you’re still struggling, I made the move without taking that into consideration. I've recovered from this and you aren't there yet.” Marco anxiously tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “How embarrassing…”

Jean frowned softly, looking down at Marco’s small hand in his. There was a little scar along his thumb but it didn’t poke out too much, just enough to split a small batch of freckles on his tan skin. “I’m not right for you… right now, and I can’t let myself feel like I can get better for _you_ … I have to do it for me first.”

Marco couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know… I just got a little carried away… being around you feels the same as it did then.” He pulled his hand from Jean’s to gently punch him in the side. “I don’t know why I even like you... You’re an idiot. If someone was going in to kiss me, Id at _least_ kiss back before turning them down.”

Jean relaxed into the situation, laughing softly. “You like me because I'm… charming, handsome, and incredibly funny. There's no competition.” he mused. Marco gasped and nabbed him again.

“You’re only one of those things!”

“... which one?” Jean asked with a playfully shocked expression.

“I can’t tell you, you’ll have more of an ego then you already do!” Marco snickered, shyly leaning up against him. Jean didn’t stop him, he wouldn’t stop him. He took care as he wrapped his arm around him and pet the soft hair falling along the back of Marco’s neck. “What are Sasha and Connie doing… we should invite them... hate to be having this much fun without them.” Marco clearly enjoyed the physical attention he was being given, reciprocating by wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I have no clue… If you want we can invite them. My moms gonna order us pizza though so we might need a couple extra pies… especially if we invite Sasha. The girl is a human black hole.”

Marco rested his head up against the crook of his neck, just sitting there a minute. Jean could smell the shampoo Marco used in his hair and it was soothing. He had the perfect personality for the honey vanilla scent…. if that made any sense at all. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, taking in the moment. He knew Marco didn’t mind…

“Before you do-” He began, tilting his head up to try and look at Jean. “I… don’t care what we are to each other… whatever this is right now… is enough for me. You're enough.” He smiled.

Jean couldn’t help but burst into a dark blush, glad he couldn’t see him too well from that angle. “Okay… then we can just be this… I think that’s okay with me.”

* * *

“The life of the party is here!” Sasha slid into the doorway, blinking a couple of times. “Oh holy shit hey, it looks nice in here, I see you’ve finally thrown out the suspicious Mac and Cheese-” She suddenly reeled her arm back and full force threw a bag of chips at Marco’s unsuspecting face. He BARELY caught them before weakly chucking them back at her.

“Nice one.” Marco scoffed. "Disable me more then I already am, some friend you are!"

She winked at him, snatching them midair and dropping them on Jean’s bed. She crawled up over Jean and plopped down next to him with a sigh.

“You know, my therapist said I need to set boundaries…” Jean teased, taking his socked foot and trying to nudge Sasha off his bed. “You can’t just come over and crawl into my bed like you live here.” 

She gasped, snatching his foot with a maniacal laugh. “BIG MISTAKE! There are no boundaries between best friends!” She hissed, attempting to take his sock off.

He yelped, tilting up his foot in desperation. “STOP!” He laughed, pressing his palm on her forehead to keep her away from him. “SASHA DON'T YOU DARE!”

Marco was beside himself laughing next to them, shifting to avoid the limbs that were flying all over the place.

“You’re gonna hit Marco! Give me the sock and no one gets--” Sasha’s yell was broken up by breathless laughs. Connie let out a war cry as he entered the room running, jumping into the bed to aid Sasha in her efforts. “Cadet Springer you got my back-up call!” Her voice was stern and serious. “I’ll hold him down, you get the objective!”

“Yes, Ma’am. Eyes locked on target. Going in.”

“Guys come on!” Jean laughed, flopping back on the bed. “YOU KNOW I HATE WHEN YOU DO THIS.”

Marco moved to lay next to him, looking up at the ceiling. “Just give it up… it’s a sock.”

“It’s _my_ sock!” His laughter was uncontrollable, a snort or two sliding through. He wiggled himself back and grabbed Marco, throwing him up on top of him and putting an imaginary knife to his neck. “Stop it or the boy gets it!” Sasha and Connie’s hands both flew into the air in response. 

“Please sir, he’s but a boy!” Connie said.

“Please sir, he’s still a virgin! He won’t ever feel another person's longing touch!” Sasha bellowed.

Marco furrowed his eyebrows, a blush spreading on his freckled cheeks as he took Jean’s hands and pretended to slit his own neck. He flopped his full weight back against Jean, effectively dying in his arms.

“NooooOOOOOOO!” Sasha laughed, piling onto Marco. “My boy… my sweet boy!”

“Okay please… I'm going to die… every time you come over you make attempts on my life...” Jean grumbled, trying to push the two limp bodies off of him enough to breathe. Sasha didn’t cave immediately but eventually made her way back to the spot she attempted to settle in when she arrived.

“I was honestly just surprised you invited us!”

Marco went to get off Jean as well but the blonde boy stopped him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“No…. you can stay.”

“Pfft, stop…” Marco sat himself up and shimmied over next to him. Jean was embarrassed, regretfully following Marco’s lead.

“It’s nice to see you guys close again too…” Connie broke from the comical atmosphere to shimmy his way into any spare room there was on the bed. “Have you been doing some reunited smooching?”

“Connie!” Sasha hissed, punching him directly in the chest. “Cut it out.”

“No! It’s okay.” Jean reassured her, staying a bit closer to Marco then he probably should have been. “It’s crazy, we were just _seconds away_ from fucking when you guys walked in-”

“Jean!” Marco yelled, throwing his face into his hands as he burned red. “Don't believe him he’s a liar!”

“Don’t be embarrassed!” Jean snickered, wiggling his fingers against Marco’s sides to try and get him out of hiding. “He’s so shy, aw!”

“Damn, Marco!” Sasha played along, twirling the hair that fell out of her ponytail as she spoke.

“He’s blushing because he wants to!” Connie said. The three of them attempted to yank Marco out of his little comfort cocoon, tickling and poking at him until his red little face poked out to breathe.

“I hate all of you with such a deep seeded passion.” Marco exhaled as he took in some cool air. “So… now that we’re done.” He put up a finger at Sasha before she could interrupt him. “And before anything else… do you guys want to go out for a cigarette?” Marco inquired, watching everyone's ears perk up. “Thought so.”

Connie was the first to get up, practically dragging Sasha along with him.

“I got menthols.” He said in a hushed whisper. “Drove all the way out of state to get 'em.”

“You don’t have to whisper dumbass, my mom knows we smoke. There's an ashtray outside now.” Jean said. Marco hung back behind him, his fingertips brushing against his wrist. He took a shot in the dark and attempted to slip his fingers between them. Marco pulled back a bit… but melted into it after a moment. He seemed much more skittish doing something like that in a group setting and it made Jean a bit nervous to keep pushing the boundary like this… but holding hands was okay, he thought.

They walked out into the backyard together, moving to sit down on the patio furniture that hasn't been touched since they all sat out there before the accident. The rain from the other day left them a bit moist but no one really seemed to care. Marco kept his hand in Jean’s as they walked to their spots. Jean was always at the head of the table, Marco his right hand man, Connie on the other end and Sasha trading around between the last 3 seats. Today she sat herself on the other side of Jean, sliding her pack of cigarettes out from her front pocket. The porch light went on, dimly lighting up the backyard with a flicker or two every once and a while. Jean made a mental note to change it out for his mom when he got the chance.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been out here.” Connie commented, his cigarette hanging from between his lips. His lighter clicked once, twice, and then kept the flame long enough for him to light it. “All together, I mean.”

“Yeah. This is nice.” Sasha commented, reaching over the table and handing Marco one of hers.

“Thank you…” He said softly in return, flicking his eyes to Jean. “We missed you a lot… it’s not the same without you around. I mean, don’t get me wrong-” Marco paused and held up his hand as Sasha’s eyebrows furrowed. “It was fine without you… but it isn’t the same. We miss Jean’s late night car rides.” He chuckled.

Jean kind of… froze when he said that. It brought back this ache in the pit of his stomach he kept on feeling. He was so frustrated that he couldn’t cope with this the way they had all learned to. If he had given himself the time to heal it still wouldn’t eat him alive every time he thought about it, or even thought about getting behind the steering wheel again. 

The group seemed to pick up on how he was feeling and got rather quiet, making Jean feel even worse. Great, he ruined it.

“I’m sorry.” Marco said, twisting the cigarette between his fingers. The air got tense for just a moment too long before he spoke up again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“He needs to hear it.” Sasha leaned over, reassuring him. “Jean, we miss your car rides. We miss that you used to tote us around before we had our licenses. We miss that, even with everything considered. Don’t shut down on us.”

“I’m sorry it’s just a sore subject.” He got a little defensive but remained generally apathetic. “It’s hard to think that you guys forgive me. I love the three of you so fucking much, you know that? It eats me up. I want to miss that too but there's… such a big wall in front of me.”

“You need to get over it. What happened happened.” Connie said, flicking some of his cigarette ash off to the side. “There are support groups. I know Eren is in a really good one, it centers on PTSD and how to deal with traumatic events.” He turned to Sasha, who nodded in agreement.

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” She said. “I can get the name from him… I think it’s held at the community center.”

Jean was a little embarrassed but the care his friends were showing him put him a bit more at ease. Marco averted his eyes a moment. “I think it’s a good idea. I want you to be able to look at me without hating yourself… I see it sometimes and it breaks my heart to no end… I’ll come with you if you want.”

Sasha nodded. “We’ll all go with you.”

Jean finally decided to light up his cigarette, reaching his hand out to Marco to help him do the same. Marco was right. He wanted to fix that so he didn’t have to feel that way. Jean didn’t want Marco to think that he was the reason he was doing so poorly. It was more then just that. “I don’t know if a support group with Eren is a good idea...”

“Can I tell you something without you getting upset with me?” Marco asked quietly.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’ve talked with Eren about it… and he thinks it’s a really good idea. He’s been trying to reach out since the accident but you still have him blocked from the last time you guys had an argument. Says it helped him a lot with what he went through with losing his parents. I know it’s not the same but still.” Marco puffed on the cigarette before snaking it between his index and middle finger.

“I think you should talk to him, too. It’s an unlikely duo but you can trauma bond.” Sasha chuckled. “It’s not like you are obligated to continue contact if it’s not what you need. We just want to help you in any way we can. At the very least, consider it.”

Jean shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms. He thought about it a moment, flicking his cigarette ash directly on the table. “If you guys really think it’s a good idea I’ll give it a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked! I'm already mapping out the ending but I'm sure I have a couple more chapters deep in my little pea brain.


	5. Unlikely Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean finds an unlikely friend in a highschool rival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I UPDATE THIS TOO OFTEN I'm sorry I can't help it. Im really motivated to write this!  
> I've been dropping some songs Ive been listening to while writing and while I love doing it I figured I should just drop my entire Jean playlist. Have a listen for vibes while reading!  
> +https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2DHR9HDPGXYxpo2AzqZNg3?si=-lkG2MCmQ1OShlrPE4iFnA

Jean had managed to push himself out of his comfort zone to message Eren about this group he was recommended. He was unsure if this was something he could really benefit from but it was worth a shot. If his friends thought it would help he was willing to try it. He trusted them over anyone else in the world… excluding his mom, of course. Granted, he made it a point not to tell her about contacting Eren so he didn't worry her. She was very adamant about Jean getting out there and _positively_ connecting with people again. She loved being his best friend, spending their time watching hallmark movies crying on the couch together. She knew he needed more than her and he agreed...hesitantly.

He decided to start the journey by making plans to meet up with Eren and see what he thought about it. They didn’t want to have each other over their homes so they decided to meet at a cafe just outside of town. It was a quaint small business that had opened up a couple years back, known for being a big meeting point for either high school first dates or geriatric couple outings, no in between. Jean walked, of course, with both of his airpods in and his hands dug deep into his pockets. He didn’t want to give himself the time to have second thoughts so he blasted his music so loud he could hear the inner workings of the headphones rattling around inside of the hardware. Once he got closer he hesitated, seeing the boy sitting at a table by the window with a cup resting between his hands. This was so fucking weird.

Jean took a deep breath and removed his headphones. This was a good thing. This was a _good thing_. Just keep on walking.

Eren’s eyes caught sight of Jean and waved him over with a small grin. His hair was pulled back into a small messy ponytail Jean couldn’t help but smirk at. He looked like a fucking hobo.

“Didn’t expect you to show up.” He said, lifting up his cup to take a sip as Jean walked up to him. “I ordered for you, hope you don’t mind.”

Jean reached forward and grabbed the back of the chair, spinning it out so he could sit. He scooted forward as quietly as he could against the tile floors. “I thought about not coming.”

“Well, I’m glad you showed. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Eren set down his drink with a laugh. “Stubborn as ever, huh? Weren’t _you_ the one to reach out to _me_ for help?”

Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “I guess I did.”

Eren reached into his front jacket pocket, pulling out a little pamphlet with a handwritten phone number on the front. “Your friends really care about you, you know that? It’s important to not rely on them for things they can’t handle. This group could be a good thing for you.” He pressed the paper to the table and slid it over to him before relaxing his chin against the palm of his hand. “It’s a pretty small group, personable… I like it a lot.”

Jean reached forward and took the pamphlet with a little huff, reading his way through the front before setting it back down. PTSD and Trauma Support Group, every Friday at 1pm. “Can I be blunt and ask you something?”

Eren nodded, tilting his head. “Thank you for asking me that before you assumed I’d be okay with it. Go ahead.”

The blonde’s hands futzed with the folded corners, picking some of the paper apart. “Was it hard to ask for help… to admit you needed it? How did you… find it in you to even get the energy to do something like that, to find something like this?” 

Eren seemed a bit hesitant, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never easy to ask for help. You kind of assume it's something you can handle until it isn't. It took me a while to let go of all the anger that I was feeling… I manifested the trauma by lashing out… you don’t notice how that pushes people away from you or how it affects the people who are desperate to stay. Eventually people are begging you to come back and all you do is disappoint them when you do. You have to be okay with disappointing people sometimes, too. It’s a part of coming to terms with things… not being perfect.” He picked his mug back up again, looking up at Jean through his eyelashes. “You dealt with it by forcing yourself to hurt the way you thought you deserved, right?”

Jean nodded. The barista came over and he politely thanked her as she set down his drink. Black tea, sugar on the side. A safe bet. “When… the thing happened with your parents… did you ever feel like you couldn’t come back from that?”

Eren chuckled, just holding the warm mug between his hands. “My parents were murdered, Jean. You can say it, you have to be okay with saying stuff like that. It’s the truth.” He sighed. “Regardless, no one feels like they can come back from something like that. It’s not true but it doesn't make the feelings any less real. Can I ask you something about the accident in return?”

“Go ahead, you don’t have to ask me that.”

“When the accident happened, did you think you killed Marco?”

Jean averted his gaze, his fingers rushing to pinch hard at his forearm to ease the sting of his words. “Of course I did…”

“And when you found out he was alive, did it make you feel any better?”

Jean heard the words but he couldn’t process them. He was attempting to keep composure but it was a lot harder under the circumstances.

“Jean, the reason I asked you if I could ask you about this is because I didn't know how you would handle it.”

“I know… I can handle it.” Jean shot back, immediately readjusting himself and subconsciously mimicking Eren’s hands around his own mug. He enjoyed the way the mug stung against the palm of his hands and distracted him from the waves of heat pulsing through his stomach.

“There's a difference between being able to handle it and forcing yourself to deal with it because you feel like you deserve how you’re feeling right now.” 

“ _I can handle it_.” Jean asserted.

Eren sighed, running his thumb along the mugs handle. “When you found out he was alive, did it make you feel any better?” He repeated.

“No, it made me feel worse.”

“Why?”

Jean actually didn’t know the answer to that question. He sat silently for a moment, staring at his reflection in the tea he was holding. 

“It didn’t make you feel better because you knew you’d have to face what you’d done head on. You knew you’d have to see what you’d caused and that it wasn’t reversible. You couldn’t undo it.” Eren said, able to keep his composure through Jean's discomfort.

“Does that make me a bad person?” Jean gripped his mug hard as he started to give in to the anxiety rolling through him.

Eren took on a more sympathetic stance, leaning himself forward to try and make eye contact with him. “No, it doesn't. It doesn’t make you a bad person at all.”

“I’m forever grateful I didn’t kill him… I’m so glad he’s alive and able to have fun… laugh… I’ve never seen him this happy and I can’t help but wonder if that’s because I haven’t been there.” Jean fought his emotions and tried to swallow to choke them down. Being vulnerable was hard enough...being vulnerable in front of Eren of all people felt impossible.

“You’re coming up with reasons to hate yourself because it’s easier then coming to terms with the fact that you could have killed someone if things were just the slightest bit different-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jean said weakly, hiking up his shoulders and leaning into his cup. “Just… shut up…”

“You didn’t kill anyone.” Eren asserted his stance, leaning across the table to pat Jean on the back of the head. “Cry if you have to. You need to feel something.”

Jean exhaled shakily, leaning himself back into his seat as he tried to relax. He felt like if he even muttered a word he would start crying. He was going to fight that as much as he could even if it ended up happening anyway.

“Let’s take a break.” Eren said suddenly, sliding his left hand to the table and tapping his nails against it. “Can you do me favor? I want you to tap each finger against your thumb and until you count to 10… back and forth like this.” He lifted his hand, tapping his index, middle, ring and pinky finger to his thumb and back again. "Do that 4 times in a row. Inhale until you reach 10 the first time, exhale during the second.” he said.

Jean nodded, lifting his hand and doing exactly what he said. Inhale...10….Exhale...10.

“Do you feel any better?”

Jean took his final exhale, surprised by the relief that brought him. Even still, he was afraid to talk so he just nodded, letting his body relax back to where he felt he needed to be.

“When you do that, your brain is busy focusing on the three tasks I asked you to do. You’re tapping your fingers physically, counting mentally, and taking deep breaths. It doesn’t give you the room for the thought to manifest.” Eren relaxed into a smile, resting his forearms against the table. “If that doesn’t work for you in the long run you can always find other things that help. Personally that one helps me a lot. I’m glad it could help you.”

“Why are you being so nice to me after everything between us. We fucking hate eachother.”

Eren pursed his lips. “I don’t hate you, Jean. Don’t get me wrong you’re not my favorite person on the planet… but we’re a lot more similar than you think. I think that might actually be _why_ we don’t get along.” He lifted his hand to call over the barista. “Do you want anything else before I ask for the check?”

Jean really mulled over his words. Half of him hated that he said that...but the other half was comforted by it. “No, I’m alright. I brought cash.”

“It’s on me. I figured we could finish up our drinks and go for a walk. It’s beautiful out. As long as you’d like to keep talking.” He offered, pulling out his wallet as the barista came over to them. Eren politely asked for the bill and the barista was quick to bring it over to him. “No rush, take your time. I’ve set aside the time for as long as you’ll need.”

Jean lifted his tea and knocked it back, nodding his head as he swallowed. “Yeah I think that would work for me.”

“Good to hear.” Eren said softly. He pulled a 20 out of his wallet and slipped it into the little black book.

The both of them got up from their chairs, Eren making it a point to hang back a moment and personally thank the barista while she grabbed the book. They headed out on their way soon after that. Eren was limping a bit as he walked but Jean decided not to ask about it. He did, however, make sure to walk just a little slower to accommodate his walking speed as they made their way down the road towards a rather small walking path around a lake. Jean had memories of walking around this lake and he tried to shake them off because they weren't necessarily positive. 

“I remember when I shoved you in this lake.” Eren chuckled, putting his hands in the pockets of his rather ratty hoodie. Jean furrowed his eyebrows

“I should have dragged your ass in with me. I had to throw out those shoes.” He leaned over to the side and bumped against him.

Eren laughed and toppled over to the side. “I think we are just too alike to ever get along too well..”

“You mentioned.” Jean scoffed.

“Do you want to talk more about what happened or do you want to start fist fighting by the pond?” 

Jean was uncertain, moving to take out an unopened pack of cigarettes. He slapped the top and bottom against the palm of his hand, gripping the tab and pulling it off slowly. Muscle memory guided his hands as he balled up and shoved the excess plastic into his pocket. Jean flipped his lucky and grabbed the cigarette on the left of it.

“Do you need that to get through the conversation?” Eren spoke calmly.

Jean laughed, tucking the cigarette between his lips. “It’s become less of a social thing and more of an… all the time thing.” He fumbled for his lighter.

“Whatever you need.”

Jean lit himself up, exhaling consciously over his shoulder to not bother anyone. “Thanks.”

Eren sighed to himself, holding out his hand with his index and middle fingers parted. Jean caught on to his thought process after a moment, a smirk coming across his face. “Really?”

“I've never smoked a day in my life, is it counterproductive to be curious?” Eren asked, shaking his hand in his face.

“You want a full one?”

“Oh, no. Just give me a puff of yours.”

“Ew… that’s like kissing you.”

Eren furrowed his eyebrows. “Just hand me the fucking cigarette, you’re insufferable.”

Jean snickered, flicking some ash off the end of the butt and stopping in his tracks. “Put your fucking hand down. Here.” Jean adjusted his hand and leaned in close to him, pressing the filter of his cigarette between Eren’s lips. “Don’t inhale directly to your lungs. Suck it into your mouth and then slowly inhale from there so you don’t choke out.” He said. Him and Eren’s eyes met a moment as he followed his instructions. The red embers burned brighter for a moment, Jean carefully calculating how much smoke he was taking in before pulling back. 

Regardless of his advice Eren exhaled into a harsh cough. He leaned down, putting his hands on his knees with a wheeze. “That was horrendous. How can you- eugh- smoke that shit?” He was laughing but Jean hadn't noticed for a minute. Eren spit on the floor, wiping his mouth with the already dirty sleeve of his hoodie.

Jean grinned as he brought the cigarette back to his own lips. “It helps me relax… sure the taste isn't ideal but you get used to it.”

Eren grimaced and spit a bit more onto the ground. “Did you start smoking more after the accident?” 

“Yeah… quite a bit more. Me and my mom started smoking together in the backyard. We had both been hiding the fact that we smoked from each other… and while we were dealing with everything it became a comfort thing for us.” Jean spoke a bit more naturally, keeping pace with Eren’s bum leg. 

“You and your mom were always really close. I bet she was there for you quite a lot.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“It’s great that you have her, but I’m willing to bet that you didn’t open up to her the way she wanted you too.” Eren said, continuing to periodically cough every one and a while. “Eugh.”

“I wanted to open up to her more, but like…” Jean shrugged his shoulders. “I knew she was disappointed in me for what I had done. For a brief bit I really wanted to just… kill myself and end it, you know? How do you tell your mother something like that? She got me a therapist and that was working better but unpacking that baggage to a stranger leaves room for judgement. I mean… talking to you leaves room for judgement too but at least you know who I am...”

Eren walked up to a puddle and tapped his foot against the surface of the water before taking a wide stride over it. “Do you think the world would have been better off if you’d just done that instead?”

Jean was a bit off put by the way he said it but he tried to understand it was coming from a good place. He stepped right through the puddle without much thought, tossing his cigarette strategically into a nearby grate. “I don’t know the answer to that. Sometimes I feel like people would have gotten over my death if I had done it when I planned… when things were fresh and people were still mad at me.”

“You know for a fact, Marco would have been broken beyond repair by that. We all know that.” Jean went to talk but Eren sped up the pace of his words just as he opened his mouth. “You don’t get to invalidate how he feels about you because you don’t feel like you deserve that love. Everyone who’s ever had fucking eyes can see that Marco is in love with you… every time he’s had more then 2 drinks since the accident he’s always cried about you not talking to him anymore… no fun to drink with if you ask me...but I suppose we’ve all been there.”

Jean listened to the sounds of both of their feet crunching gravel as they went around the far end of the lake where the water wasn't bordered by wood and it could freely lap against the dirt. Eren walked up to the water and squatted down to grab a rock partially sticking out of the ground. Standing himself up he wound his arm back and tossed the rock along the water. 

“That hurts to hear.” Jean said softly. He walked over to stand next to the boy as he failed to skip the following couple rocks he had kept collecting balled in his hand. Eren looked over his shoulder at him with a sigh.

“Of course it hurts. You need to be willing to accept how he feels about you while also accepting the extent of what you’ve done. You _need_ to be able to say what you did and what has come of it. Then, maybe you can admit that you feel the same way about him.”

Jean grabbed a small stick from a nearby tree and bent down to dig into the dirt by his feet. “Why would I need to go to this group when I have you telling me this. It sounds like it would just be the same thing.” He muttered, digging a rather flat rock out of the ground and handing it up to Eren. “Here, try this one.”

“You’re changing the subject, lover boy.” Eren tossed a rock over on Jean’s shoulder, pleased it stayed right where it landed without him noticing. “The group is definitely worth it. It gives you a ton of perspective on how other people are handling trauma. When I started going I didn’t say a word to anyone. The first time I even introduced myself was maybe a month after I started going. Then, someone took interest in me and really worked to get me out of my shell. They helped me reconnect with my half brother and things slowly got easier from there. We even go out to the diner sometimes after group. Every other week we have a family and friends session too, so starting on that might be easier for you.” Eren said softly, rubbing his thumb against the dirt on the rock Jean had given him and perfectly skipped it along the water. “I know it's easier to do this for Sasha, Connie, and specifically Marco… but you have to want to do it for YOU for it to work.” He said, moving to pick the rock out of the folds of Jean’s hoodie. 

“Yeah… the other night… Marco tried to kiss me and I pretty much told him he couldn’t be the one that pushed me to fix me. I think he wants that… I think that’s part of the reason he wanted to. Motivation, maybe.” 

“It’s good that you recognized that you can’t reciprocate those feelings right now, but you can’t possibly know if he wants to be that change in you. It’s important he knows it's a burden he shouldn’t have to bear.” Eren’s gaze stayed on Jean even after he stretched up to a standing position. “You need to stop talking about needing to be fixed. You’re not broken, you’re not made of glass.”

Jean nodded alongside what he was saying, rubbing his upper arm. “You’re right.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.” Eren dissolved into a playful smile, turning towards him and holding out his hand. “Will I see you at group this week? I expect you to say yes.”

Jean couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his hand against Eren’s and gripping it tight. “Sure, I'll go. Does this make us friends?”

Eren gripped his hand back. “We’ve been friends. You’re just a huge asshole and thought that friendly rivalry was an attack on your precious little ego.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, that’s so embarrassing I hate that you were there for every embarrassing thing I’ve literally ever done.” Jean shook Eren’s hand a bit before letting go to punch him in the shoulder.

“Like the time you hit on Mikasa junior year and then promptly vomited on her shoes?”

“I had… FOOD POISONING! How many times do I have to tell you that?!”

Eren let out a loud laugh, moving to squish Jean’s cheeks between his hands. “Such a dreamboat.”

“Cut it out!”

* * *

The rest of the time Jean spent with Eren was fun. They continued their walk around the park with absolutely no casualties. No one ended up in the lake, no one got punched, it was really emotionally healing for Jean to gain this newfound relationship with him. Eren was actually pretty funny, too.

Jean split off from him around where they had met at the cafe, thanking him for his time before turning to head home. On his way back he stopped at a small corner store to buy some flowers for his mom. He hadn’t done that in a while and he remembered she really enjoyed when he did. They were nothing too big, a small bunch of pink carnations with silver foil wrapped around them. He tried to be quiet since it was around the time his mother would be cooking and he didn’t want to startle her, sneaking himself past the door and hiding the bouquet behind his back. “I’m home!” He called. “What are you doing?” He peeked around the corner into the living room where she was sitting.

She turned her head and smiled, patting the couch. “Waiting for my handsome boy to get home. I rented us a movie. You’ve been so busy with your friends lately you haven’t had any momma time.” 

Jean smiled back at her, twisting the flowers from behind his back. “That’s crazy, I was thinking about you too!” 

She gasped, clasping both hands over her mouth. “Jean! You are too sweet.”

Jean handed them to her, sliding down next to her on the couch. “That vase was dusting on the counter, if anything I did you a favor.” He joked. The look on his mom’s face was enough to boost his mood a considerable amount. 

“I raised you right, you know that?” She held the flowers against her chest and moved to lovingly pet his head. 

“All on your own too… not sure how you did it. I certainly was a handful.”

“Oh shush… they’re beautiful, thank you.”

Jean watched her admire them, settling into her touch. He loved her so much… “I just wanted to let you know that I just… appreciate you so much. Thank you for loving me and never giving up on me, I know that must have been hard for you.”

Jean’s mom furrowed her eyebrows, leaning forward to set the flowers down on the table. “Loving you is effortless. You’re my son. No matter what you’ve done… within reason, of course… It will never make it hard to love you.”

Jean looked down at his lap. He fought like hell not to cry but… the stuff Eren said to him really got to him. He wanted to be able to accept the love he was given even if he didn’t feel like he deserved it. 

“Honey.” His mom said, her voice breaking a bit as she slid her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in close to kiss his forehead. “You’re trying so hard to be a person I never asked you to be for me. All you need to be is you, that’s all.” She pouted.

“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that…”

“Now stop those tears.” She took her thumbs and gently brushed them under his eyes. “Come sit with your old mom and watch a bad movie.”

“I’d like that, but before we do… I was wondering if this friday you could drop me off at Eren’s before you leave for work. He’s going to take me to this support group he’s been going to. I think it might be a good thing for me.”

“Eren? Like Eren Jaeger?”

“I know, I know, just trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment and let me know what you think! Next chapter might take a bit to get out but with the fact Ive been updating like every 2 days I dont think it'll take much longer then that- just takes me a while to proof read because I'm so focused on dialog I write action in between that!


	6. Superposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie and Marco push Jean a bit too hard. Sasha and Jean share a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I..... am back.... heheh.  
> This chapter was fun to write, AND all Ive been thinking about.  
> Anyway, the song Jean and Sasha sing together is  
> \+ Heat of the Summer - Young the Giant.
> 
> But my music rec for this chapter is nearly any Young the Giant song. Please enjoy!

Jean woke up the next morning on the couch, tucked in tight presumably by his mother after he passed out during movie night. The sun was beaming through the window only warming him to the point he would do anything in his power not to move from this sweet spot. He turned over onto his side and snuggled into the cushions with a sigh. He knew he had a lecture today but he was heavily considering taking a mental health day. The idea was glamorous… staying home all day, ordering out… but he knew he couldn’t do that. Taking so many days off this early in the year made him look bad. Not to mention, college doesn't give a shit if you show up so he was 100% liable for his own failure.

He gave himself a couple more minutes before he had the best stretch of his life, arching and relaxing his back down against the pre warmed blankets. He turned his head to see a bent envelope on the coffee table in front of him adorned with his name with some meticulously drawn hearts on either side.

Jean reached over and just barely caught hold of it with the tips of his fingers, opening it up to a note.

**_‘Working an early shift. Left you some money so you could pick up breakfast on the way to your lecture. Marco and Connie are coming to pick you up so you don’t have to walk. Have a great day! Love you_ ** **_❤_ ** **_\- Momma”_ **

He pursed his lips. Of course she would trap him into going in. He groaned and sat himself up, brushing his fingers through his ratty bedhead. He really needed a haircut soon… he was reaching mullet territory. 

Jean heard a knock at his door, narrowing his eyes. He scratched a bit his tummy as waddled over to answer it. “It’s 10AM.” He groaned. Connie and Marco stood on his porch with Dunkin Donuts bags and drinks in their hands, both with a shit eating grin. 

“Here bright and early… brought breakfast!” Connie pushed past Jean and immediately plopped himself down on the couch. “Did you sleep here last night?”

“Bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant just like you like.” Marco cooed, shoving the bag against his chest. “There's also a Redbull in my bag for you, which you clearly need. How are you sleeping so violently that you wake up like this?"

Jean lifted his hands to cradle the bag, stepping aside to invite the boy in. “And before you say ‘aww you guys! You didn't have to do that!’, it was Marco’s idea because he loooooves you!” Connie cooed. He kicked off his shoes, one flying halfway across the room. 

“You know it.” Marco tiptoed his way behind Connie and rubbed his hand hard against his closely buzzed head. “Somebody is jealous! Turn around and give me a kiss.” Marco purred, wrapping his arms loosely around Connie’s neck.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do! Jean you better get your man I’m bout to steal him.” Connie bit down gently on Marco’s injured arm. It wasn’t too hard but Marco overdramatically gasped anyway.

Jean quickly snuck up behind Marco and wrapped his arms around his waist. He locked his hands together and lifted him up. The freckled boy he squealed in delight, much to Jean’s amusement. He couldn't help but note, probably for the millionth time, that Marco always smelt so fucking good. “Haha very funny!”

“It was either a homosexuality joke or a homophobia joke. I only know two things.” Connie laughed, opening up his bag to grab something out of his crumpled up bag. "Why do they always put the donut in face down I just don't understand..."

Marco leaned his head back against Jean’s shoulder with a giggle. “What is everyone's fascination with picking me up!? Put me down!”

“No. You’re mine, Connie can’t have you!” Jean was overdramatic, swinging him back and forth.

“Connie is straight!”

“Not for you, baby.” Connie arched his back so he could look upside down over at the two of them. “God, you guys are so cute it makes me fucking sick. Keep your man, I’m starving.”

“Okay, put me down now!” Marco wiggled.

Jean put him down but kept his arms around him for just one second. He knew not to linger too long and kept it in the back of his head that he didn’t want to lead Marco on or start something he knew he couldn’t handle right now.

“Jean, eat your breakfast and take some deep breaths.” Marco beamed, walking past him to settle next to Connie. “You’re gonna be driving us to school today!”

“No.” He snapped back instantly. It wasn’t nasty or anything but it was sudden and rather loud. “I can’t.”

Marco turned back to look at him, frowning. “You have to get back on the road sometime. Connie is more than happy to let you drive his car. Not much more you can do to it with how much he hits the curb” He said, waving Jean’s sandwich at him. Jean furrowed his eyebrows and made his way over to take it. “It’s a ten minute drive, we believe in you.”

“That’s not the point… I’m uncomfortable with you dropping this on me so suddenly.” He said, settling down on the recliner facing them. “I haven’t driven since that night… and every time I get behind the wheel I have a panic attack. If I wanted to embarrass myself in front of you guys I’d just remind you of the time I walked directly into a stop sign and you didn’t notice for almost an entire block that I had fallen on my ass.”

“That was...fucking hilarious.” Connie mused, taking such a big bite of his sandwich half of it was gone in an instant. “But Marco is right. You need to give it a shot. Even just getting behind the wheel and deciding it's too much for you is better than not trying at all. We aren't going to make fun of you for having a panic attack. We’re assholes but we aren’t heartless.”

Jean peeled back the paper to his sandwich and took a bite. God, his stomach was so fucking empty it felt like heaven to eat. It was really sweet of Marco to remember his regular order. “I might cry, is that really something you’re wanting to deal with today?”

Marco frowned, kicking off his shoes so he could cross his legs under him on the couch. “We’re here for you, Jean. Even if you do cry.”

* * *

“Okay.” Marco clipped himself into the passenger seat, turning to Jean. The blonde had his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had gone white.

“I can’t do this.” He whimpered out. Connie’s hand snaked up and patted his shoulder. It scared the shit out of him but he tried to play it off with a laugh. He was barely breathing to try and stop the bout of hyperventilation that was slowly creeping up behind him.

“You can! Okay, seat adjusted, seatbelt on, did you do your mirrors?” Marco asked.

“Uh, yeah… all I can see in the rear view is Connie’s big ass head.”

“Fuck off, my head is not that big! Why do you guys always say that?" 

“Okay! Be serious guys.” Marco said, patting the center console. “We parked somewhere it was super easy to pull out, you just need to turn onto the road.”

“I physically can not move my arms anymore.” Jean exhaled, pressing his forehead against the top of the steering wheel. He was trying to calm his breathing but it was getting a bit out of hand. Either breathing too much or breathing too little, he was forgetting how to breathe in general. He couldn’t even get the car out of park. Shakily he took his hand off of the wheel and attempted to do the calming technique Eren taught him… 10 Inhale… 10 Exhale…

Marco carefully rubbed Jean’s back, humming a comforting tune as Jean took his deep breaths. “Hey, take your time. We don’t have to be there for a half an hour. We made sure to give you the time you need…just breathe.”

“You’re okay.” Connie chimed in. “I wouldn’t let you get behind the wheel of my car if I didn’t trust you.”

Jean went to shoot back but he stopped himself. He needed to remember to accept the trust that was being handed to him. He needed to remember to trust them too. They wouldn’t put him in a situation he couldn’t handle… they wouldn’t put themselves in a situation they couldn’t handle… especially after last time...

“I trust you too, Jean. It’s just ten minutes and then it’s over. Here…” Marco moved his arm and took Jean’s right hand, pressing the palm of it to the gear shift. He kept that hand in his grip but didn’t move it.

“Stop…” Jean yelped out. “Don’t-”

“I’m not going to move it. I’m not going to force you.” Marco reassured him.

“I can’t do it…” Jean began to tremble, his heart throbbed in his chest. He felt like he was going to start crying and he really didn’t want to. All he could see was the broken windshield behind his eyes. It was so intense he felt he couldn’t even look over at Marco in fear of what he might see.

“If you really can’t do it you don’t have to.” Marco said, brushing his thumb against his hand. “What matters is that you’re trying, that's all.”

“I really want to be able to do it. I really do…”

Marco pursed his lips in an attempt to think about how to help. “Do you think you could just inch forward a couple of feet?”

Jean went to speak but felt his stomach lurch. He shook Marco’s hand off of his, slapping it over his mouth. He was barely able to unbuckle himself and stumble out of the car before vomiting onto the road and all over his hand, whining rather pathetically as he finished. He set his clean hand on his knee as dry heaved a couple more times. Guilt ran through him as he spit onto the ground to try and get the taste out of his mouth. The air of silence that followed lasted way too long and furthered the self depreciative thoughts he harbored.

“Don’t look.” Jean called.

“Shut up.” Connie jumped out of the car, gently rubbing up and down his back. “I’ve seen you vomit a lot of grosser things then a breakfast sandwich. Thanks for not puking in my car.” Marco quickly followed them with a napkin he took from Connie’s passenger side door, pulling Jean’s hair back and wiping his mouth.

“You’re okay… you did so good…” Marco went to help him clean up his hand but realized maybe a thin McDonald’s napkin wasn't going to be enough. “Connie, I’ll take him inside and clean him up, can you turn off the car?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys inside, I got a sports bottle of water I can try and… maybe clean this up a little bit so someone doesn't slip in it.”

Marco quickly ushered Jean away and back up to the door, bringing him up into the bathroom so he could help him get cleaned up. Jean was so utterly embarrassed he couldn’t stop fucking shaking. He felt so gross.

“I threw up on my shirt.”

Marco nodded, wetting a paper towel so he could clean up the corners of his mouth a bit better. “I know, honey… we’ll get you something new to wear. You did so good today.”

“No I didn’t. I sat in the driver's seat and then threw up all over myself.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Marco made a clear attempt not to patronize him that he appreciated.

Jean sniffed, bringing up the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his nose. “I’m not sure that saying applies here.”

“You’re deflecting. You did amazing. You did all your pre-checks AND you put your hand on the gear shift… that’s enough for now. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard.” Marco wiped as much of his vomit off the shirt he was wearing as he could. “Take this off, I’ll have Connie throw it in the washing machine.”

“I’m so fucking sorry…” Jean slid off the shirt, shakily handing it over to Marco.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Marco chuckled as he gently set the shirt aside. He reached up into the cabinet above the sink and grabbed the half full bottle of mouthwash from the top shelf. Jean reached his hand out and took it from him, twisting off the cap and poured an obscene amount in his mouth. It took him all his strength not to gag, swishing it around and spitting it into the bathtub. “Thank you.”

“Hey, everything okay up here?” Connie poked his head in. “Need any help?”

“Yeah, can you throw this in the wash and grab Jean another shirt? I think he needs a couple minutes.” Marco took the mouthwash back from Jean, making sure the cap was screwed on tight and setting it back where it belonged.

“Got it. You did good today, buddy.”

Jean groaned, making his way over to the sink to wash his hands. “I’m humiliated.”

Hesitantly Marco wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his cheek against his shoulder blade. “You don’t need to be embarrassed… I know it doesn’t mean much… but I’m really proud of you…”

“It means a lot…” Jean slid his now clean hand down to hold onto Marco’s injured arm. He hadn’t meant to caress that one but he didn’t want to make a big deal out if it. Instead he just gently ran his fingers up and down his forearm. “Does it hurt?” Jean asked quietly.

“Sometimes…”

Connie walked back into the room with a shirt hanging from his arm, awkwardly tapping his foot. Marco looked up at him and slowly let go of his grip on Jean. “Don’t let me ruin the moment.”

“That’s okay. Thank you.” Jean took the shirt, hiccuping a bit as he calmed down. “Not just uh… for the shirt. For all of this.”

“What? Idiot, of course.” Connie walked over to him and opened his arms. “Bring it in. Shirt or not.”

“Ew, no.”

“C’mon, brother!”

“...Fine, if you really insist.” Jean groaned, shuffling into Connie and squeezing him tight around the shoulders. “Ugh…”

After they shared their… tender moment… Jean got his shirt on and was able to take a small smoke break. He was so lucky to have understanding friends, even if he felt like nothing but a bother to them they never seemed to be burdened by it. He hoped he could get slowly better so he didn’t become one.

During his break he was considering trying again. He had already been through the worst of his panic attack and after vomiting all over himself he wanted to atleast have accomplished something. It’s not like there was anything in his stomach left to vomit.

Connie trusting him with his car was also a big factor in the decision. The truth was, he wasn’t sure if he was even afraid of the driving itself. All things considered he understood the accident was his own recklessness, he knew if he could pay attention and focus it would be okay.

On the way back out of the house Jean grabbed the back of Connie’s shirt. The boy turned to look at him and must have noticed Jean was incredibly nervous.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes… just one more time…”

Marco followed close behind and rubbed Jean’s back. “Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t forgive myself if we left it at me being pathetic. I didn’t get behind the wheel just to give up.” Jean released Connie’s shirt, standing a bit straighter. “You can say no, I’ll understand.”

“Dude, go ahead. I fuckin’ hate driving.”

Connie tossed Jean the keys. He overhanded it so they smacked against Jean’s chest before falling into his open hands. “Ow, dick.”

“I know you can do this!” Marco cheered, running ahead. “That means I get shotgun!”

Jean followed along behind them, his heart racing as he moved to get back behind the wheel. Things felt like they were moving in slow motion and Jean desperately tried to get a handle on the slightly blurred vision. His fingers turned the key in the ignition, the car starting with a low purr. It was infuriating how that noise used to fill him with excitement and now it was replaced with dread.

“You got this!” Marco broke him from his thoughts with a grin.

“Yeah!!! Foot on the brake pedal baby we’re halfway there! Put this BITCH into drive!!” Connie screamed, gripping each hand on the corner of each seat.

“Stop! I’m trying.” Jean’s voice was shaky, turning his head to check that he was clear. The confidence he had just minutes ago was starting to fade fast. In a BURST of adrenaline from the panic attack starting to take hold he grabbed the gear stick, slamming it into drive.

Connie and Marco both let out a triumphant scream, their hands flying into the air as Jean let off the gas and rolled forward a couple of feet. He went to turn the wheel to go on his way but he panicked and stepped his foot back on the brake.

“I can’t!” Jean said. This time though, he was laughing. Nervous laughter but laughter nonetheless. “I can’t, someone else has got to drive…” he slammed the car back into park, throwing his hands over his face.

“YOU FUCKING DID IT!” Connie started to shake the car. “Holy shit!”

Marco unbuckled himself and threw his arms around him. “I can’t believe you just did that… that was amazing!”

Jean swallowed hard. It felt like such a small step to be celebrating but he let them hoot and holler as much as they wanted to.

“It was just a couple feet-” Jean turned to look at Marco as he celebrated, enamored by him as a dark blush formed on his cheeks. There wasn't much that excited him the way Marco’s bright smile did…

“So? You drove…” Marco pulled back from his hug so he could get a good look at him. “That’s big…”

“I hate to break up the 'You Did It' party but we do have to get to the campus.” Connie ruffled Jean’s hair as he spoke. “Marco, can you drive?”

The freckled boy let out a maniacal laugh. “Sure, I have my learners on me… as long as Jean is comfortable with that…”

It was surprising to Jean that Marco was able to drive. He turned to the boy with a subconsciously nervous grin. “Uh… how confident are you?”

“Incredibly… people drive with one hand when they physically have both all the time.” Marco dug into his bag, first handing Jean the Redbull he had almost forgotten about. “I won’t if you don’t feel comfortable with it though, we’ve pushed you a lot today. I don’t want you to have your asshole clenched for the rest of the day.” He pulled his learners permit out of his bag almost to prove that he did, in fact, have it.

Jean rolled the can around in his hand, hesitantly nodding. “Can I sit in the front seat?”

“Ugh! Fine! Not like it's _my_ car or anything! I’m gonna be super insufferable back here.” Connie grumbled.

Jean and Marco got up and traded seats in the car, settling back in with Connie’s feet crossed on the center console.

“Let’s go!” Marco beamed.

* * *

  
Jean was having a lot easier time paying attention in class now that he… felt better. He always figured the whole ‘humans are social creatures’ was a bullshit ideology made up by extroverts but honestly his mood was improving by the day since getting back into his... 'loving' friend group. Thoughts of deciding a major though, not at the forefront of his brain still. He figured he could take his core classes and come up with what he wanted to do with the rest of his life once it came to that. He absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his lips as the professor droned on, his other hand doodling on the corner of his syllabus.

As the class came to a close Jean packed up his things, shoving his laptop and notebooks haphazardly into his bag. He was supposed to have another class later but he had gotten a message on his Classroom board that it was canceled. It wouldn’t have bothered him if he had a ride that could take him home earlier… but Connie had another lecture and Marco had 2 so it would be hours before he even had a ride back.

He sighed to himself, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He knew he could walk but it was rather far and honestly he was drained physically after having a couple notable panic attacks today.

Jean turned his head towards the exit door of his lecture hall and saw Sasha's bubbly smile and brown eyes peering over at him. She waved him over, a psychiatry book tightly held to her chest. Jean couldn’t help but notice how messy her ponytail was, hair all over the place but still framing her cheeks perfectly. “Hey!” She said softly as he approached her. “I know you have another class. I thought I could walk you before I head home, oh-” she scrambled, shoving her book in Jean’s hand before reaching into her bag to pull out his hoodie for him. “I also wanted to return this… I washed it for you.”

Jean let out a chuckle and politely handed her book back. “Oh shit, thank you I had forgotten all about it. I half expected you to keep it forever.”

There was something about Sasha’s aura that was different today. Jean shook the thoughts from his head. It wasn’t helpful to read into things too much. “But uh, actually my class was canceled.”

“I should have just stolen it, damn.” She laughed, handing him the clothing in a messy pile. “WELL, If you don’t have class maybe we can hang out? I can take you back to my place and we can like, i ‘unno… get food or something?” She said, pulling her bangs out of her face a bit. “My parents aren’t home so we can play Mario Kart and be like, really fucking loud.”

Jean shifted a bit, a little… tired out from the day already… not like Sasha was high maintenance or anything… he just felt emotionally compromised. “I don’t know Sash, I’m really tired.”

“We can go to your house and just relax then… but you can also say no…” she hummed, clearly adament on spending time together. “But I'd really rather you say yes.”

A smile came across Jean’s face. It felt nice that she made an effort with him. He was pretty sure he knew he was gonna cave from the beginning. Saying no to Sasha was always really hard. They had known eachother since they were elementary schoolers so when she called, Jean came running. “Okay, only for a little while though. A lot of stressful things happened today.”

Sasha smiled, bouncing a bit before tugging his shirt to lead him out towards the parking lot. “I heard you drove… that’s amazing! Thanks for the invite, by the way.” Her tone was so passive aggressive it was almost impressive.

They both playfully bickered on their way back to Jean’s place like they always had. Luckily they had almost the exact same taste in music so every time a song came on they both gasped and melted into the melody. It was refreshing and super comfortable being around her. Jean never felt he needed a buffer between them.

"Oh! Turn this up!" Sasha yelled as a song began, smacking Jean repeatedly on the shoulder. "Hurry!"

“Ow! Cut it out!” His fingers immediately slid up the volume for her. Her shitty car speakers rattled but it didn’t bother either of them. 

“This was our summer song! Do you remember?” She yelled over the music, slapping her hands against the wheel in tune. The second the drum beat began he was thrown into full nostalgia, bopping along silently next to her. He remembered listening to this song in the car when she had recommended it… and how all four of them immediately connected it to that moment and each other.

“ _Feel like it’s been forever! Since I had my shit together! I’m just doin what I_ \-- Jean, sing it!” Sasha sang LOUD, her eyes flicking over to him.

“ _In the heat of the summer_!” He finished with a laugh.

“ _If I could roll up another, baby I can see in technicolor!_ ” They both leaned in towards each other, Jean lifting his hand as if a microphone was held there. “ _I’m just doin’ what I gotta, in the heat of the summer_!”

“Oh my god you’re voice! I forgot you were actually decent at singing.”

“So you’ve said!”

Sasha pulled up in front of Jean’s house, locking the doors to finish the song first. Once it had ended, and after briefly bickering about listening to it just once more, they made their way up Jean’s porch

“Is your room still clean?” Sasha asked. Jean was sorting through his key ring, shooting her a look she promptly returned. Once they made their way inside and up into Jean’s room he plopped FACE FIRST into his bed. “Ugh…”

“Want a back rub?” Sasha quickly crawled up on top of him, sitting all of her weight on his lower back. As much as he hated to admit it, that felt really good.

“Mmmh… no _thank_ you.” He quickly whipped around and sent her flying to the bed next to him.

“So violent!” She yelled, staying still in the spot that he threw her. There was such an odd silence that filled up the room… one that Jean felt a compulsion to break through even though he could typically handle it. Instead he turned his head to look at her, admiring the way she was looking right back at him.

“Jean.” She said, her face tinting in a soft blush. “Do you think I’m attractive?” Sasha posed playfully but Jean could tell she was seriously asking. 

“What? Of course… you’re one of the prettiest girls I know, stupid.” He laughed. “Why do you ask?”

Sasha’s face blew up in a dark red, covering her face. “Ugh… there's this guy, right? His name is Niccolo and he like... made me lunch the other day because I had made a comment about how good his food always looked… and he sat with me and we ate together… and I don’t know…” she slid her hands down, turning on her side to face him. “I feel like you are a good person to ask because you wouldn’t lie… you think he’s hitting on me?”

Jean thought that the way she was acting was so cute, keeping his head turned towards her as she spoke. “Oh, yeah. No person on this earth cooks for a stranger like that without a little premeditation. For real, you’re gorgeous... he’ll be a happy guy."

Sasha uncovered her face, inching her way closer to him. “You think?”

The atmosphere got a little… heavy rather suddenly and it left Jean reeling. She was incredibly pretty… Sasha had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen… her personality was a bit off putting sometimes but Jean truly cared about her more than a lot of people.

“Then why didn’t you ever hit on me?” She pouted.

“Stupidity, probably.”

“Hm.”

Jean’s voice faded as their conversation died, just kind of watching each other for a moment. Why _did_ he never hit on her? She was so fucking nice… everything good that was happening to him lately was happening because of her. It was so comforting…. and when she didn’t pull back from his hand sliding to her cheek he leaned himself in.

She met his lips halfway, one hand digging up into his hair as she tugged him over her so his chest lay pressed against hers. Neither one hesitated in deepening the kiss, humming into it. She lovingly rubbed down along the nape of his neck with that same hand, the other resting on his waist to ever so slightly start bunching up his shirt. It was… intense and sudden and definitely not what they should be doing. It continued for a couple minutes like that before Jean even THOUGHT about what was happening, rocketing himself off of her.

“Ah!”

“Oh, no.” Sasha scrambled out from underneath him, laughing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry, what the hell...”

“Oh my god.” Jean wiped his mouth, shivering off the emotion he was feeling. “I am so sorry.”

“What? Why are you apologizing? I didn’t pull away!”

“I know! What the hell is wrong with us, you were nice to me for like 4 seconds.” Jean smacked himself in the forehead with a low groan. He felt so incredibly stupid. This is why he needed to pace himself with other people, a perfect example of that EXACTLY. He was developing codependent traits without even fucking realizing it.

“Don’t act like it was BAD!” Sasha was so embarrassed her hair was sticking to the sweat on her forehead. “You’re a good kisser!”

“Well! You are too, but we shouldn’t have been kissing…” he mumbled, evolving into the softest bit of laughter. “We… tell no one about that.”

“Duh! I literally have a thing going on with Niccolo we were _just_ addressing. If he finds out I'm out here kissing… _you_ , he’s definitely not gonna be interested! Plus if Marco finds out--”

“He won’t! I don’t want to fuck this up with him and this is probably the perfect way to do it. I don’t want to hurt him because I’m a fucking idiot.”

Sasha watched as Jean started to beat himself up about it, sliding herself close to rub small circles against Jean's chest with her hand. "Hey! Stop, it’s fine, see? Do you have a crush on me?”

“God, no.”

“Okay, ow, I'll unpack that later.” Sasha laughed. “But it’s fine… you also haven't seen anyone but your mom and your therapist for a year up until a couple of days ago it's normal to like… y’know… have a little sexual tension with your hot as fuck best friend.”

“Shut up!” He groaned. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m grossed out… I’m just embarrassed. You deserve better than me like… being touch starved and attaching to anyone that gives me a crumb of physical attention.”

“I know, Jean. I’m not mad… it was an interesting experience. Freshman Sasha was living vicariously through me! Let’s never do that _ever_ _again_ but you’re beating yourself up too much about it.”

“Yeah…” Jean blushed, lying himself back down next to her. “I wish I kissed Marco like that. The last time he tried to kiss me I turned him down because I didn’t think it was a good idea right out the gate… Plus he seems really uncomfortable sometimes when I try to show him affection and I have no idea how to navigate that. The second you reciprocated I took the shot.”

Sasha followed suit, sighing softly as her back hit the bed. “For real though... I hope Nicolo kisses like that. But… okay..” Sasha swung her arm over at Jean, her index finger suddenly pressed to his lips. “Can I trust you with a Marco secret? And I’ll only tell you because I was your friend first and I also made out with you first.”

Jean’s ears perked up a bit, shooing her hand away from him. “So you’ve been holding out on me until you had blackmail? Ice cold, Sasha.”

“Shut up… there was minor bro-code involved…” she clapped her hands together quietly. “Marco is really scared of being hurt emotionally by you. He thought you were playing him before the accident because you never tried to be serious. He felt like you might have been using him to experiment with your sexuality.” Sasha readjusting her shirt a bit, still frazzled by their heated makeout session. “You won’t admit to him that you like him but you like… touch up on him and that's conflicting. He’s right too, sorry to say. You probably should have kissed him that night before rejecting him, you probably gave him the wrong idea.”

“I’m such a fucking dick.”

“Jean do you like, genuinely like Marco? Like in a romantic way? You can be honest with me, I'm your friend, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Jean had never admitted it before… not to anyone or even himself. Maybe admitting it to her would be easier now that they almost dry humped on his fucking bed.

“I…I really fucking like him.” He crumbled into his hands a shy, blushing mess. Ugh he felt like a middleschool girl getting a card on valentines day. “I see him and I want to be close to him… I want to touch him and kiss him… like, I think about it a lot and it makes me feel guilty. I didn’t realize he felt like I was leading him on. I thought making a conscious effort not to do that was enough. I get why he felt like he couldn’t talk to me about it… fuck. I really was... and _am_ asshole…”

“No! You weren’t…I guess it just… well, we all thought you were straight so when Marco got all excited about you and him talking we were confused…”

“I thought I was straight too! That’s the thing. Marco is the only guy I’ve ever liked. I think about other guys and it is not appealing to me but Marco? There’s something about him. I don’t even care that he’s a guy… it’s never bothered me before but it's confusing. He’s afraid I’m going to hurt him… I’m afraid I’m going to hurt him… what’s the point then? I’ll hurt him and I hate that.” Jean kept his hands over his face to hide his expression. “What do I do? After what just happened… I don’t think I can be with him with how things are. If I hadn’t stopped would we have kept going? What does that mean for me, for you, for us?”

Sasha sighed, nuzzling against his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you should do, honestly. I don’t know if we would have had like… sex or anything, Jean. What I do know is that you’re not the only one of us who just… needed to feel something. We both like someone we feel like we’re not good enough for… but we’ve always been good enough for each other. I’m sorry I kissed you back, and I’m sorry I probably wouldn’t have stopped either…”

Jean finally let his hands off his face, gently sweeping his arm around to play with Sasha’s hair as they spoke. She was such a good friend to him, she always had been. 

“I slept with Connie after the accident.” She admitted softly. “And after that, it was weird with us for a while. We didn’t even like eachother like that… we still don’t. It was just one of those things… he was there. I was there… we were coping.”

“It just… seems so unhealthy.”

“It is.” She chuckled. “You took that information well, I’m surprised. Regardless… you’re overthinking everything. You can like Marco and not _depend_ on liking him, if you get what I mean."

“I mean, what am I supposed to say? Ew? I almost just slept with you for the same reason.”

“You would arguably be a better lay, but yeah I see what you mean. You know what I think? Me and Connie are different then you guys. You like eachother, is it so bad to find just a little comfort in that together? You should tell Marco how you feel about him and see what he has to say. I think he needs to hear that you’re not just toying with him the same way we just toyed with each other.”

Jean nodded, his eyes tracing the bumps on his horrendously ugly popcorn ceiling. Maybe he should tell Marco how he felt even just to remain on the same page about things.

“I just… want you to be gentle with him… please.” Sasha said. “He is so fucking important to me… and you are too, but he has a lot more to lose then you do. He deserves to be treated well… and loved… and you need to decide if you can do that or if you have to let him go.”

Jean’s stomach twisted at the thought of letting Marco go. He knew if he held on and kept him on stand-by it would do so much harm but inwardly he wanted him to wait for him… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dying to hear your opinions, leave a comment and let me know what you think! I know it was kind of a curveball but everything happens for a reason 🥺🥺  
> I really hope you are enjoying and that you continue to! 
> 
> \+ Also, if you wanna talk abt jeanmarco with me please hmu at no-more-fortnite on tumblr. I need Jeanmarco friends in 2021


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